


Rehabilitation

by ZaiaFantasy



Series: Hellmouth Trilogy [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feral!Giles, Hellmouth (BtVS), Love, Rehabilitation, Trapped in the Hellmouth, compassion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 09:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaiaFantasy/pseuds/ZaiaFantasy
Summary: To prevent the Apocalypse Giles sacrifices himself to the Hellmouth. Unable to let him go, the Scoobies work to bring him back only to discover the Giles that returned is nothing like the one they knew. Now they have to work to rehabilitate him to see if a shred of their old Watcher remains. - Thank you to Ace for the beta reading. I <3 you! - Winner of the summer contest for the Sunnydale Fanfic Club podcast!





	1. Chapter 1

The ground rumbled under their feet, nearly pitching the Watcher sideways while the two Slayers managed to stand upright. The grass split in front of them, a light shooting into the night sky to pierce the navy blue with blood red. All of the stars that had shone so brightly a moment before vanished against a false veneer, the moon painted crimson. The demons were dispatched, limbs and bodies scattered about on the lawn in front of the trio but the damage had already been done. The Hellmouth began to open and who knew what would escape from it once the portal was completely agape.

“Buffy!” Giles turned to his right and spotted the blonde with a sword in her hands. “We have to close this before it gets too far. I need an orb from my flat. It’s in the cupboard in my study on the second shelf toward the back. Take Faith and retrieve it for me.” 

He pushed her toward the other girl gently, to her resistance. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“You must, no one else will be safe right now, but hurry back.” 

She nodded and grabbed Faith’s hand, who didn’t protest, taking off running in the direction of his home. He was out of sight before the brunette felt a sharp pain in her gut. Something struck her behind the belly and tugged her back the way she came. She paused and threw a glance over her shoulder, gaining the notice of the blonde who stopped as well. She looked back. 

“We have to go.”

“He’s not safe alone.”

“He told us both to go.”

“I don’t like it and I’m not gonna start following orders now.”

“Fine,” she nodded. “Go back and make sure he’s okay. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

“Be careful, B.”

The pair parted with her running back toward him. He was closer to the rift now and it unsettled her in a way she couldn’t identify. A ruckus had kicked up in the scant minute or two she was gone, wind whipping around them so that her voice hardly carried at all. She came close and looked past him to the swirling opening in front of them both.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t have come back!”

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone.”

“You shouldn’t be here, Faith, it isn’t safe.”

It was then that she noticed the cut on his palm with his handkerchief pressed to it and blood on the ground. She noticed a strange pattern traced in the dirt. She looked at him and then back to the Hellmouth, comprehending too late what he’d done. Her eyes widened and rose, catching his own. He offered only a helpless smile. 

“Giles!”

“The only way to close it is from the inside,” he explained.

“But you sent Buffy to -”

“A necessary deception, I’m afraid. I couldn’t risk either one of you. This has to be done.”

“No, G, we’ll find another way. You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s too late.” He gestured to the vortex. “We only have a minute before it’s opened fully and worse death than we can imagine will escape it. It will flood into this world and not even an army of Slayers will be able to stop it.”

“No!” She choked on the word, turning her face away. “God damnit! You didn’t have to do this!”

“I did. This is my job, Faith. I must protect you girls and the world.”

“I don’t give a shit about the world!” She frowned, her hands balled in fists by her side. Her eyes were on the ground. “What am I going to tell everyone?”

“Tell them I’m proud of them.” He paused, cupping her cheek with one hand and guiding her eyes up. “And you.”

She grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him toward her, meeting his lips in one fierce, fiery kiss. He returned it without hesitation, wrapping his arms around her body to keep her close for a long moment. When she pulled away his jade eyes were staring into hers. She had his shirt balled in her fists trying to undo this by will, knowing she couldn’t. Instead she nodded.

“We’ll find you.”

“I know you will.”

With one last touch of his hand to her cheek he took a step back, and then another, letting the swirling energy grab hold of him and his magic. It pulled him in, the gravity of magic catching too quickly for any more words.She was the only witness to his disappearance, watching as the red tendrils found him and wrapped around his body, pulling him back toward the gaping hole in the Earth. She thought she saw a resigned smile before he disappeared and she sank to her knees. The rift closed swiftly and the stars reappeared overhead, sparkling in the night sky as if nothing at all had happened. No one in the city would know the sacrifice he’d just made to keep them all safe to see another tomorrow. Faith reached out to touch the blood on the ground, still warm, his blood, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. Footfalls signaled the approach of the other Slayer and she steeled her spine. She stood, turning to face the blonde. 

“What happened? Where’s Giles?” Buffy could see plainly the distress she was in and felt a knot clench in her stomach. “Faith, where is Giles?”

“He’s gone.” The words were ghosts and she hated to speak them, a tumult of emotions rolling around inside her. 

“What do you mean gone?”

“The only way to close the portal was from the inside.”

“Inside.” Her eyes widened and she let out a horrified sound, looking down at the ground where the rift had been. “He’s in the Hellmouth?”

“I think so.”

“Then why did he send me for…” 

She stared at the orb in her hand, tempted to throw it in spite. When he needed her she should have been there! The thought of what he’d done made her sick with guilt. 

“He wanted to keep us safe. I think maybe he didn’t want us to see.”

“But you did. You saw. What did he say?”

“He’s proud of you.”

“That’s it?”

“There wasn’t a lot of time.”

“What will we- I mean, how can we? Willow. We should call Willow.”

“We will.”

“Every second he’s in there he could die, Faith.”

“He’s strong, B. We’ll find a way.”

The other girl looked at her, hearing a new tone in her voice full of resignation and a strange sense of calm. She let it flood her with reassurance, taking a deep breath. Faith looked down at her hand and realized she was still holding his handkerchief, his blood vivid against the white linen. The other girl followed her gaze.

“What’s that?”

“His blood. He cut himself for the magic to work.”

Tears swam in the blonde’s eyes as she allowed herself to be led away from the Hellmouth. There was no library marking this one - nothing except a great oak tree in a clearing in the middle of the woods. Faith felt odd being the voice of calm and reason, having never served in the role before. Like much of the evening the mantle didn’t sit right. She was supposed to be the one that was separate from all of this. Instead, she helped her companion into his car, finding the keys still in the ignition. She drove them back to his place, glancing every so often at the blonde’s pensive expression reflected in the passenger window. 

“There’s nothing we could have done.”

“We should have tried! I should have seen through that - God, I shouldn’t have left him!” 

“We’ll fix it.”

“We have to fix it. We have to. I can’t…” A huge sob erupted from her, greater for being held back too long. “I can’t lose him too.”

“I don’t want to lose him either,” she admitted quietly. “I promised we’d find him.”

They pulled up to the townhouse he was renting, letting themselves in with his keys. Buffy moved to the phone and Faith to the liquor cabinet, pouring herself a strong drink in a crystal tumbler. She hardly winced as she took a long pull, the burning unable to register against how numb she felt inside. She’d kissed him, said goodbye. It hurt; everything hurt. 

“Willow’s on her way. She’s picking up Xander first.”

“Good. We need them to help.” She looked up, her glass half empty. “We should try to sleep.”

“Sleep is the last thing I want to do.”

“We’re no good like this. Our best chance is to try to rest, clear the emotions from our heads. We start fresh in the morning when the shock is gone.”

“We’ll set up Xander and Willow with the research first,” she conceded. “Take shifts trying to piece something together.”

“It’s a plan.” The only one they had.

The other part of the Scoobies arrived as quickly as they could, letting themselves in. Neither looked great and there were hugs all around that Faith shied away from. She let Buffy do most of the talking, drinking much more than her share to keep the pain as numb as shock initially made it. Books were pulled from his personal collection and laid on a table ready for the shifts of research already beginning. 

“I’m going to bed.” She announced, standing up and wobbling in place. 

She stumbled to his bedroom, closing the door behind her to claim the room as her own temporary haven. She even managed to lock the door, looking around first. It was all too surreal, looking at his personal effects scattered around her and knowing that he wasn’t going to come home to claim them until they managed to pull him out of hell. She moved to his nightstand and saw his watch sitting there. She slipped it onto her wrist, a size or two bigger than she fit, and took comfort in the constant ticking. She kicked off her shoes and climbed into his bed tugging at the pillow next to the used nightstand, she assumed it was his pillow, and hugged it to her body. Only then did she allow the tears to come, replaying his last few minutes over and over in her head until there was no energy left to cry. 

Eventually she passed into fitful sleep and was troubled by nightmares.


	2. Chapter 2

She was slow to wake but grateful once she escaped her sleep. The dreams hadn’t been kind to her, tormenting her with how helpless she’d been watching him get sucked into the Hellmouth. The sun was shining through the bedroom windows, coating the room in a false sense of cheer. The light was too bright, shocking her blood shot eyes until she covered her head with a pillow. Unfortunately this was not a foreign state for her to find herself in. Pushing herself up, she raked a hand through her hair and touched her feet to the floor. She was horrible at research but for him she’d make the effort if coffee was provided.

Thankfully, that welcome aroma greeted her the moment she opened the door, meeting an equally disheveled blonde who offered her an empty mug wordlessly. She leaned against the counter next to her counterpart after the coffee was poured, inhaling a deep breath of its scent before taking a welcomed sip. She groaned, her head feeling several sizes too small from the night’s drinking. The girl next to her gave a sympathetic smile, not looking too great for wear, either. 

“Rough night?”

“It wasn’t great.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

They stood in the kitchen for a while, silent, and the blonde didn’t protest when the brunette shut off the overhead lighting. Both knew they coped with things in entirely different ways and last night was a hell of a thing to cope with. Her internal phrasing hit a nerve and she winced, turning her attention back to the other Slayer. 

“Did you check on Willow and Xander?”

“Xander’s passed out on the couch. Willow fell asleep on the table.”

“Should we wake them, find out what they know?”

“I guess we should.” 

They went into the living room and Buffy went to the redhead first, shaking her shoulder gently. “Will!”

“I’m not sleeping!” She protested, her tone thick with it despite her protests. 

When she opened her eyes she looked around and understood where she was, looking surprised at first and then dismayed. Her eyes traveled from the Slayers to her other best friend and back again and then back down to the books scattered on the table.

“What time is it?”

“It’s about ten.” The blonde glanced at a clock to be sure. “How long have you been asleep?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. 

“What did you find out?” The other slayer prodded, not nearly so concerned with feelings as progress. 

“Well, I mean, it’s the Hellmouth. Most of what we know is theory. It’s not like anyone’s survived in it long enough to…”

Willow realized what she’d just said and let out a quiet eep, covering her mouth with both of her hands with wide eyes. Her friend shook her head.

“It’s ok.”

It wasn’t, they all knew it, but it hadn’t been intentional. It was just more motivation to get him out of there. Unfortunately, no one was really equipped to do that. They couldn’t exactly go to the Council for help; it had never really been on their side to begin with. Whatever had to be done, they were all resigned to do it themselves. To that end the blonde nudged Willow off to bed, urging her to take Xander with her, and took over her place in front of the pile of books. The other girl didn’t bother, choosing to spend her time pacing instead of nursing her hangover. 

“That’s not helping!” 

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“So read a book.”

“I don’t speak Latin!”

“Neither do I!” 

And with some disappointment she looked down and realized that was exactly the language the book she held was written in. She set it aside and looked for another one. It only took a look to realize they were both thinking the same thing, only the brunette said it first.

“He should be here.”

“We work to get him back.”

Weeks passed and the longer they went on the more urgent their attitudes became. They went through all of his books looking for some in depth description of how to pull someone out of a Hellmouth without opening that door up for everyone. 

The blonde looked up from her book and sighed. “We don’t have a choice. We have to go ask the Council.”

The other Slayer shook her head, knowing where this was heading. “I’m not exactly their favorite here. Not after...everything.”

“You think I am?” 

She’d essentially sided with Giles, telling them to fuck off. She strong armed them when she could. Sure they’d changed that later on but she was still pretty sure she wasn’t on anyone’s Christmas card list. But it had to be a Slayer; they all knew it. The Council wouldn’t listen to anyone else but one of their own. Someone had to try and that someone was the more reasonable choice. She already sighed in defeat, moving to put her book aside. 

“I’ll go ask them. I shouldn’t be gone long. You guys, keep trying.”

She trekked across London to the Council building which looked surprisingly mundane all things considered. The grey stone building blended into the grey overcast sky and gave very little distinction from the skyline. She opened the dark wooden door and stepped inside. She was greeted by a woman, who knew her by name on sight. 

“Miss Summers! We knew you were in London but we weren’t expecting you. Is anything the matter?”

“Well, actually, yeah. There is. Giles is gone.”

“Your Watcher is missing?”

“No. I mean yes. We know where he is.” She paused, shaking her head. “It’s complicated.”

“It usually is.”

She was led past the entry toward the back of the building. She knew it was large but inside it was appointed like some old fashioned hunting association with dark wood, bankers desks, and stuffy men in tweed suits. She looked at them as she passed not doubting each of them knew who she was and might have suspected why she was there among them. They passed through several layers of the building, taking an elevator up. 

“I didn’t know it was this big,” she commented softly.

“It takes a great deal to keep the Council going. Along with all of our potential Slayers, we find and nurture those we feel have a potential to join our ranks. There’s the antiquities department, accounting, research, training. It’s all very impressive.”

“Yeah, impressive,” she repeated in a flat tone. All of this at their fingertips and they still left fate in the hands of one girl. It was sickening. She was taken to an ornate set of double doors at the end of a long hall and her attendant gestured toward them. Whatever there was, she’d find inside. A familiar face sat hunched over the desk, aged a little since the last time she’d seen him. Quentin Travers: a name that conjured up more ill than good. 

“Ah, Miss Summers.” He gestured to the chair in front of him. 

“Don’t get up,” she quipped and stayed standing. He frowned.

“What brings you here?”

“Giles is in a Hellmouth. We need to get him back.”

She wasn’t sure why she believed they might help but the whole story came tumbling out of her about the prophecy and the warning signs and then the demonic cult that gathered at the sight of the Hellmouth to crack it open. When she got the part about her Watcher’s sacrifice her voice cracked and she fell silent. The older man watched her with a neutral expression, his hands folded and tucked beneath his chin. 

“You realize in all likelihood he’s dead.”

“Yes.”

“There’s nothing we can do to help you, Miss Summers.”

“You mean nothing you’re willing to do.”

“Your aim is madness. We can assign a new Watcher to you if you like but there is very little to gain from it and so much to lose. Rupert’s death is regrettable -”

“He’s not dead!”

She picked up something from the desk, the first thing her groping hand reached for, a teacup, and threw it past the senior Watcher’s head. It splintered against the wall, sending Travers scrambling out of his seat while the Slayer stood there, enraged. Her glare could have frozen water and if they could kill, well, the man might have thought of himself as the one in the Hellmouth and not his former colleague.

“Now see here young lady that was wholly uncalled for. I ought to -”

“Stop. Talking.” Her voice was tight and her words clipped. He immediately stopped. “Getting Giles back is more to gain than you have ever acknowledged. The fact that you won’t even try is disgusting. This whole place is disgusting. You don’t help anyone but yourselves. I’m sorry I came here to ask. Don’t worry, we’ll get him back ourselves and when we do I’m coming back here, with Faith and Giles, and we’re going to talk about changes to be made.”

“You can’t change ancient tradition on a whim,” the hint of defiance in his tone was mostly covered up by fear. 

“Watch me.”

As she walked out of his office she felt the eyes of the other Council members on her. She didn’t care. She also recognized Faith’s touch in her words and manner. Maybe the brunette was rubbing off on her after all their time together. She knew losing her temper had been wrong but in the moment it had felt so good she couldn’t bring herself to care for more than a few stray seconds. 

The trip back to the flat felt like it took forever and she fidgeted as she stood in the train waiting for her stop. No one had to ask when she walked through the door, each one deflating just a little as the blonde sat on the couch and sighed. The brunette, from her corner, scowled. Research was failing and the Council that was supposed to help them was turning their backs on the cause, again. As usual, nothing was going their way. She was sick of it, getting up to grab her jacket. Buffy let out a protest as she walked past but failed to get a response before the door was slammed behind the retreating woman. 

If things couldn’t be done the right way there was only one way left. 

“Ethan!” 

The chaotic little toad wasn’t hard to find, rarely straying far from his hometown despite someone being in London that had promised to kill him the next time he was found. Right now, Faith needed him. He was easy to track in all the worst circles and one by one Faith chased down the leads until she found herself kicking down a door. The building was practically falling down but inside it was set with a proper altar, candles all around. Her eyes swept the place for any sign of a trap. She needed information and wasn’t too picky about how she got it. The worst of her days were behind her but she could bend the rules of reform if it meant being one step closer to bringing him back.

“Ethan, if you make me hunt you down you’ll hurt for the extra effort.”

“You’re speaking in nasties tonight. Rare form for a Slayer.”

She whipped around, setting eyes on him in a wide set doorway, looking composed, despite her tone. Her knife was in hand, the one the Mayor had given her, and she let him see the candlelight glint against the blade. He held up his hands in premature surrender, shaking his head. 

“Now, now, I’ve done nothing to bring you lot against me.”

“Oh, I know that’s not true.” She returned.

“Well, certainly nothing you can prove in any case.”

“I want information.”

“Oh? And what are you willing to pay for this information?”

She launched forward, pinning him to the wall by the throat and squeezing enough to cause him significant distress. When she eased up she narrowed her eyes and kept her grip around his throat. His hands were still up, but his eyes gained the look of resignation to them, glazed with a little fear.

“You say even one word I don’t want to hear I’ll snap your neck.”

“Tell me which word you don’t want me to say, Slayer.”

She growled, choking him again to prove her sincerity. “I’m not in the mood for games, Ethan.”

“Then just what is it that you do want?”

“I need to make a deal.”

“Now that’s something I can help you with. Just what sort of a deal are you looking to make?”

“None with you,” she was quick to clarify. “Giles is stuck in the Hellmouth. I need to find a demon willing to make a deal to break him out.”

“Really?” 

The man’s eyes lit up like Christmas, a broad grin painting his features with true joy. She could see the pleasure he took in the news and punched him in the stomach for it. He let out all of his breath in one quick woosh and that mollified her. She reasserter her control, pulling him forward slightly only to slam his head back against the wall. It shook with the force of impact and he let out a weak sound, his head dropping forward. 

“If you want me to remember anything at all I suggest you not do that again.” 

He wheezed a little but was sincere. She wasn’t apologetic but let her hand fall back to her side, keeping her grip on her knife with the other.

“Speak. And if you even think about lying to me I will hurt you again.”

“You reek of desperation, Slayer.”

“Faith.”

His laugh was rich but strained. The tenor of it echoed around them until she raised her first to punch him. He quieted quickly enough, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry but I can’t help it. It’s just that’s a little misguided, isn’t it? Universe’s idea of a joke?”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Oh, I know more than you think. It pays to be cautious, paranoid even. Whatever crowd Ripper runs with I want to know all I can. You, my dear, are full of surprises.”

“You have three seconds.”

Every muscle in her body was arrested, held perfectly rigid to be able to react to whatever he decided to throw at her. Magic was the biggest advantage on his side but from what she understood, his talent had always come from survival, not necessarily power. 

“You want to find a demon named Syvvlin. He’s not terribly hard to find, just speak his name in a cemetery at night.”

“If you’re lying to me…”

He pretended to be offended, putting a hand to his heart. “Perish the thought!”

“He’ll be able to bring Giles back?”

“Of course, for a price.”

“What kind of a price?”

“Well, that depends on you. What are you willing to give up, Faith?”

“Everything.”


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was setting by the time Faith got out of the squalid hellhole she’d found Ethan in. Something told her he wasn’t going to stick around after her visit and wondered if she’d been so desperate for answers that she just got played to give him a chance to escape. The thought turned her stomach to ice as she stalked the streets of London looking for a proper cemetery to sneak into. The city was old and had no few to choose from, but she wanted something large enough to provide at least a little privacy. Demonic deals made in the dark should be secret, she guessed.

Finding one near the heart of the city, she snuck over the large gate and dropped down on the other side. The night had a chill breeze to it and she wrapped her arms around her body to combat the cold. Glancing up, she saw stars sparkling in the sky, dulled by the lights of the city. It reminded her of the night he went missing, much longer ago than she was comfortable with. Like she’d told Ethan, she was willing to do anything to get Giles back, seeing the resigned look in his eyes every time she closed hers. She promised she would find him and meant to keep that promise.

She almost wished there was time to tell Buffy about her plan, but was pretty sure the blonde wouldn’t approve of her methods. No matter how broken up they all were, there were some lines the other Slayer still wouldn’t cross. The Watcher would hate this plan, too, but so long as he was there to wag his finger and place blame she’d take it. 

When she’d gone deep enough into the cemetery to see nothing of the city all around her, she paused. It was an old, crumbling thing with tombstones of varied heights scattered around her. She closed her eyes, making a deep fervent wish before she opened them again. Either she was going to be making this deal or Ethan had just played her for the biggest fool of the century. She seriously hoped for the former and looked up, wishing on what she hoped was the North Star before looking back down.

“Syvvlin.”

Nothing. No fire. No brimstone. No harold of demonic trumpets or mocking laughter. She waited, letting moments tick by as she stood there among the dead. With a deep sigh and a shake of her head the brunette turned and swore under her breath. She’d only gone a step before a cold chill crept up her spine that owed nothing to the night breeze. When she looked up a hooded figure stood in front of her, robes draped over a thin frame. His head was down, shadowing his face in the moonlight.

“Sssslayer.”

The word was viscous caressing her ear and she shuddered, the feeling creeping down her back. It felt like pollution washing against the shore - thick oil lapping against the sand and rocks coating them with a black taint that would take a long time to wash away. She froze where she was with her hand darting to her knife, only to find it not in the sheath hanging from her belt. 

“There’ssss no need for that, Ssslayer. You have sssummoned me, remember?”

“I want to make a deal.”

“A deal? What isss your heart’ssss desire?”

His voice is hard to place, though she tried to think what it reminded her of. It’s not loud, barely a whisper, but she can hear it clear as day. It’s light, too, with a lyrical quality. The words almost run together. As he moved she caught a flash of scaled flesh crawling across his hand. It winks in the moonlight, patched across what appeared to be normal skin. It’s enough to make her shiver, but she responded to his question with determination. 

“I need to bring a man back from the Hellmouth. His name is Rupert Giles.”

“You sssseek someone in the Hellmouth?”

The thick accent could do little to hide the amusement in the demon’s tone. 

“Can you bring him back or not?”

“Of courssse. He is easssily within my reach.”

“What’ll it take?”

“Ah, the sssordid topic of payment.” He pauses. “That is not ssso sssimple.”

“You know what you want. Tell me.”

“You’ll be mine, Ssslayer. You’ll belong to me.”

“Will I have to kill people?” 

Her eyes traveled down to look at her hands, hesitant to accept outright. She wanted him back but she wasn’t sure how this deal would affect her. She’d been in that dark place before and being a demon’s enforcer was not her idea of a good time. He could have her do anything for him and the thought of backsliding into the woman she used to be scared her. The demon didn’t answer but she suspected she saw the hint of a smile under the shadow of his hood. It was answer enough.

“It could be ssso sssimple.” The demon waved a scaled hand and an orb appeared in it. “I will leave it to you to decide. Place your blood on this orb to bind yourself to me when you are ready to have him back. It will return to me and he’ll be yoursss.”

Against her will, Faith reached out to take the orb from his hand. 

“Tick Tock Ssslayer. He’sss waiting.”

The demon disappeared and she looked to where he’d been. The orb was small and unassuming in her hand. She pulled it close to her, a chance to get him back and started toward the flat again. Her mind blurred with conflicting thoughts, wanting to find a way to make it happen without sacrificing her soul. She opened the door to the flat and walked in, significantly deflated. Moving toward the liquor cabinet, she’s startled by a voice behind her.

“Where’d you go, Faith?”

She whipped around to see Xander sitting up on the couch. The bottle almost dropped from her hand but she managed to keep hold on it. A sigh escaped her lips, her look earnest. She showed him the orb in her other hand, still undecided on what to do with it. 

“I can get him back.”

The young man leaned forward, taking a look at what she held in her hand. 

“What is that?”

“A contract.”

“With who?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do. Tell me.”

“If I put my blood on this orb, I’ll seal the contract and we’ll get Giles back.”

“Yeah, but what’s the price?”

“It’s not important. Focus on what’s important, Harris.”

They stared at each other for a long minute, a small battle of wills. Faith was much better practiced at it and remained tight lipped, unwilling to tell anyone what she would be giving up for this. Xander stood and nodded his head, looking grim.

“Buff? Can you come in here?”

“You’re calling in a ref, Xander?”

“Maybe she can talk some sense into you. Whatever this is you’re doing, I know it’s not good.”

The blonde appeared with Willow as Faith turned. If they knew they’d stop her and if the orb broke they’d have nothing left. She cracked the bottle against the cabinet, watching it splinter. As the other slayer rushed toward her she cut her hand and wrapped it around around the orb. Thunder cracked and light flashed. They were all thrown to the ground. Faith hit the wall, laying dazed. She blinked as she opened her eyes, letting them focus. Someone was standing upright, but she couldn’t tell who it was. It didn’t look like anyone she had ever seen before. 

She moaned, sitting up, and saw the others recovering as well. That’s when she heard it.

“Giles?”

Faith blinked, forcing herself to her feet. She was behind him but she could see things had changed. He was covered in something other than tweed. She moved a step toward him and noticed he was dressed in leather. With dawning horror she realized exactly where that leather had to have come from. How he’d survived she had no idea. It was difficult to imagine. His hair was cropped close to his head in shaggy cuts. His face was unkempt, a long five o’clock shadow across his chin with scars from nicks. A wicked looking knife hung from a makeshift sheath on his belt. His hand was on the hilt, she couldn’t make out what it was made of, and gripped it so hard his knuckles were white. His eyes were trained on Buffy for the moment, then Willow, but they eventually made their way to Xander and her. 

“Giles.”

Buffy couldn’t tear her eyes away from him standing there. Faith noticed the wild look on his face and realized too late as Buffy reached for him.

“No, Buffy, don’t.” 

He immediately lashed out at her, catching her wrist and flipping her toward the wall. She landed hard, everyone in the room was stunned to silence, including the blonde. Faith held both of her hands up, seeing this look too many times in the mirror not to recognize what it was. She approached him like a wounded animal caught in a trap knowing that even the smallest thing could set him off. She’d been the same: alone and scared after she left home and again after her Watcher was killed in front of her. Too many moments she’d seen this mix of anger, fear, and confusion. 

“It’s ok.” Her voice was softer than anyone had ever heard from her before. “Giles, it’s gonna be ok. You’re safe here. We just want to see you safe. We care about you.” 

Things she wished someone had said to her once upon a time. Things she still had trouble believing because bad seemed to trail on her heels like a junkyard dog. At some time, somewhere, she wished someone had seen the wild look in her eyes and just stopped pushing. Everyone, perhaps out of shock for the entirety of the situation, fell into her lead. Xander quietly took Willow and left the room leaving the Watcher with his two Slayers. 

“Giles.” Buffy’d gotten off the floor but hadn’t come closer to him again. “It’s me. It’s Buffy.”

They couldn’t imagine how he’d suffered. His entire body was transformed. He was mostly naked, scars running across his skin in ragged lines. She saw a few that looked like claw marks, others from a weapon. None of them looked like that had been easy to tend. Her eyes wandered freely over this new man, noticing the changes. His muscles were well defined, strength borne of necessity and time. They stretched across his body in sinewy masses of carved stone. He looked rock solid except that he was thinner, his frame gaunt in places. When he turned back to her she noticed a scar above his left eye. He’d only been gone a few weeks and came back an utter stranger that didn’t respond to anyone, least of all his Slayer who cast worried eyes toward her counterpart. 

“Giles, are you hungry?” Faith nodded toward the kitchen. “We have food.” 

Buffy moved slowly, taking up the brunette’s manner. He fidgeted, his knife rising halfway from its holder. He watched her for any sign of a threat as she moved until she left for the kitchen and came back with bread, some sort of warmed up sausage from the night before, and some fruit. The open way he looked at it reminded her of a man that was used to starving. He didn’t move toward her, his entire body completely still but taut like a guitar string.

“Put it on the floor.” 

The blonde remained doubtful but did as she was told. Faith backed away from him a few steps, moving toward the other girl. 

“We need to leave him alone.”

“But what if...?”

“Trust me.”

That was never a thing freely given between them but for once she didn’t argue. They backed out of the room slowly, pulling the door closed but not latching it. Through the crack they watched as the Watcher pounced, devouring the food on the floor in a purely animalistic way that would have shocked and appalled the man he’d been. Buffy let out a low sound before covering her mouth to prevent any more from escaping.

“What happened to him?”

“He was in the Hellmouth, B. He assimilated.”

“Does that mean he’s evil now?”

“I don’t know; I don’t think so. If he was he would have gutted us when he had the chance.”

“What do we do?”

“Be here. Be gentle. Guide him back to us.” If it worked, for however long it took. “He might never be the same, B.”

She trembled, hugging herself with her eyes trained on him beyond the door. “How do you know what to do?”

“I wasn’t that far off, once upon a time.”

She remembered clearly being in that dark place inside herself where nothing existed but survival. There was no room for anything but what it took to get to the next day, the next minute. Though she’d done a good job of hiding it, she remembered feeling completely alone, suspecting everyone and everything. And she remembered being in the pouring rain, begging Angel to kill her, knowing that she would never be seen as anything more than evil. She remembered the weight of the guilt crushing her until there was nothing left. Always darkness. Always falling. She’d taken forever to claw her way back up.

She noticed Buffy’s eyes on her.

“It’s not the same; I know it’s not, but it’s all I can think of.”

“We can’t stay here. The city, all these people, the noise? It’ll be just another Hellmouth. Who knows how he’ll lash out?”

To prove her point an ambulance passed by on the street, shrieking its siren to the night. They heard a crash, both girls bursting through the door to see the table knocked over, books and their research materials flung everywhere. They split up, each going to opposite sides of the room. When they got to place where they could see behind the table he wasn’t there. 

“Giles?”

Brown eyes swept the room and spotted him behind the blonde, his knife in hand crouched in the shadows underneath a side table that had no business being able to shade him the way it was. He should have been bigger than that. 

“B.” 

Blue eyes flicked up. She nodded behind her. She turned and spotted her mentor, sinking to her knees slowly in front of him. Her eyes flushed with tears, seeing him cowering there. Faith stayed rooted where she was, watching carefully in case she needed to intervene in a hurry. Tears were slipping down Buffy’s cheeks silently as she tried to console the understandably frightened man.

“Giles, it’s ok. It was just an ambulance. It’s gone now. It’s ok.”

He looked toward the window, seeing a night sky with stars shining. He saw the moon making its way across the sky. Then he saw the crying young woman in front of him. Slowly, carefully, he moved forward. She froze as he moved toward her. His jade eyes were sharp as they took her in, searching her face for something she couldn’t identify. He reached a hand up and touched one of her wet cheeks, immediately jerking his hand away to examine. He turned it this way and that, rubbing his thumb against the tears on his fingertips, wondering at them. He looked up at her again; she realized she was holding her breath. 

“It’s me,” she breathed softly. “I’m here.”

Light from a passing car flashed through the window and along the wall, causing him to go skittering away, back to his hiding place. 

“No, Giles!” 

He was gone again as quickly as he’d come. He hit his head on the table this time, instead of ducking under it, and fell back. He hit the carpet with a thud, and twisted agilely, ending up on his knees. His knife was at the ready, prepared for any attack. 

“We’re not going to hurt you.”

They were losing him. Faith heard the spell and looked at Willow just in time for the Watcher to sink to the floor unconscious. 

“What did you do?” She demanded.

“Oh, he was... I mean…”

“It needed to happen.” Buffy admitted quietly. “You were right. We can’t stay here.”

“Where do we go?”

“I have an idea.”


	4. Chapter 4

“We can’t tie him up, Faith!”

“We can’t have him barreling out of the car at fifty miles per hour either.”

The frustrated blonde put her hands on her hips, giving the other girl a look that signaled she knew she was losing the fight. Willow’s spell would only have him out for so long and by the time he was awake they needed to have him wherever they were going to go. 

“What if he wakes up and he’s tied? He’ll be more scared than he is now.”

“Xander’s driving. We keep Willow in the back to work the mojo if he wakes up again. You to hold him as long as it takes for her to get the spell off and me in the front to give directions.”

She paused and thought about it, finally conceding. “I don’t like this.”

“I don’t either.”

They got everything packed, all of them squished into Giles’ car. His sense of automobiles had never improved leaving them cramped together. The Watcher was lazily draped across the witch and the slayer in the back seat. Buffy held his hand the entire time, whispering to him about their lives, memories, anything she thought could get him to come back to her. He failed to respond, thrashing occasionally against the two women but thankfully didn’t stir.

They pulled up the gravel drive toward his family house in the country. Xander parked the car next to the cabin he and Willow would be staying in. Faith unpacked the things they’d shoved in duffle bags. She slung one over her shoulder. Buffy took the other and between them they carried the unconscious man. Thankfully it wasn’t very far to get to the trees. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t take off running when he woke up but they were both going to take the chance, sleeping in shifts.

“Faith?”

She looked up from starting a fire, her eyes drifting across camp.

“Thanks. For all of this.”

“I care about him, too.”

“I’m getting that.”

They fell back into silence, setting up a small camp in a clearing. Soon a fire crackled, providing a ring of light around them. Away from the city nothing sounded but the fire’s occasional popping and the whisper of the breeze through the trees. He began to stir when Faith put a spit over the fire to roast some meat she’d brought. She grinned, thinking it was sort of typical for a man to wake up for food. And usually for sex, but mostly for food. She chuckled but then was on her guard in case he panicked. 

He looked around, getting to his feet before he realized his knife was not where it had been. It was laying next to the fire, a few feet in front of him. He looked between the girls and then at the meat. Slowly, so slowly Faith thought she might die of old age before it happened, he relaxed. Whatever they were to him he had at least decided they weren’t out to hurt him. 

“Hey.” 

She got up, handing him a cup of water. He yanked it from her and drank greedily. When he lowered it she refilled it from the bottle. That he kept in hand, turning around to look at their surroundings. He shivered and the other slayer was quick to root around in one of the duffle bags. She came out with a loose pair of pants and a shirt, both of which were likely too large for him now but it was all they had. She offered those to him. He took them and pondered them a minute, running his hands over the cloth. He let out a soft sound, pushing his pants down to put the other pair on. His slayer turned a bright shade of red and eeped, turning her back to him. Faith just averted her eyes. 

He seemed to realize something was wrong and paused, staring at them both. The brunette smiled and gave him a small nod, trying not to make him self conscious before turning her back to him as well. She heard rustling at first, and then a struggle and a strangled sound, like a dying animal. She whipped back around and saw him standing in place, the shirt halfway on and stuck. He looked cute and helpless, a befuddled look on his face that reminded her of the Giles he was. She moved toward him, hands up, and took hold of the shirt. She helped him with the sleeves, bringing it down properly over his head. Her hand brushed his skin, which felt like it was flushed with fever. He flinched but did not lash out this time.

“You look a little like yourself.” She promised him.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. The clothes weren’t his usual style and hung off of him like some muscled scarecrow but at least they weren’t made from demon skins. It was a step in the right direction and neither girl was going to complain about that. Buffy yawned and Faith moved to the spit to take the meat off the fire. It looked plenty cooked through. He eyed it hungrily but seemed to understand that it was too soon to eat it. While the blonde fell to sleep Faith sat in silence with Giles, used to staying up late. Normally she was demon hunting, but tonight she’d have to be low key. 

He ate with abandon as soon as she offered it to him, groaning at the taste. She rummaged around and found a football she’d brought for something to do. She leaned back against a log and tossed it straight up above her, catching it as it spiraled down. It was going to be a long night and she had nothing else to do. After a few minutes, once the meat was gone, she realized he was watching her. His eyes followed her every move, keen and appraising. She turned her eyes on him, still throwing and catching the ball. Without warning she tossed it in his direction. His hand shot out and caught it, holding it out in front of him. He brought the ball to his nose and sniffed it curiously, turning it over in his hands to examine when smell yielded no results. Finally his eyes drifted back to hers. She pointed to the ball and then to herself, nodding encouragement. 

He threw it.

The ball connected with her hands with a solid sound but his aim was surprisingly accurate. She smiled to reward the effort; he looked proud and a little playful.

“Come on.”

She led him from their camp to the open field beyond the trees. The moon hung overhead, illuminating the night with plenty of light. He looked around and then up, mesmerized by the sky. She watched him as he stared, reaching up as if to touch one of the stars that winked down at them. A heavy sigh erupted from his lips and he looked at her, mouth open, a look of concentration painting his features. No sound came and he scowled instead, turning his back to her. His hands were in fists, shaking by his side.

“Hey,” she chided softly. “It’s ok. We’ll get there. I know it makes no sense to you now, but I promise we’ll get there.” 

Where had all of this come from? This patience? This willingness to put herself on the emotional line? Her mind turned back to a night when they were battling the First. She’d been sitting on the back porch, looking up at the night sky the same way they were looking now. There was peace in the house tonight as everyone else was asleep. She heard him approach, opening the back door.

“Faith?” his voice broke her silence and she nodded acknowledgment.

“Yeah, G.”

“I noticed you out here and thought you might like some tea.”

He offered the mug. She didn’t drink tea, but took it all the same. “That all?”

“I thought you might like some company as well.”

She motioned to the chair beside her, shrugging apathy. He sat down, the chair creaking a little as it shifted. Beyond the porch she could see the trees at the back of the Summers property line. Beyond that the sky. The moon was full and nighttime in Sunnydale tended to be well lit but it didn’t block the view of one particular star, the one she’d been staring at for the past hour. 

“That’s Sirius.” He pointed.

“Like the Harry Potter guy?” He gave her a sharp look which she returned innocently. “I saw the movies.”

“No, not at all like that.” He turned away, looking up again. “It’s known at the dog star -” 

She snickered.

“What’s so funny?”

“Because he turns into a dog.”

The movie about wizards. He’d sighed in despair then, wondering for a moment why he was in this conversation at all. She quieted, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t sure he believed her but chose to pick up again. “In ancient times sailors used that star to plot their way home. They said it was a steadfast companion, like a dog, and the name stuck.”

“I’m sensing a speech coming.”

“No speech,” he smiled. “But now that you mention it -”

“I’m out.” 

She moved to get up and he caught her hand, laughing. “Stay, Faith, please. I promise I won’t lecture.”

He grew more serious as she sat back down. “You know, we’ll see light from that star for many years after it’s died. Its light resonates and travels toward Earth, taking years to reach us. All around us are the ripples of light from stars that have died and those yet to be born.”

He wasn’t talking about stars; she just knew it, deep down. 

“We’re going to win, Giles. You’re not going anywhere, but when you do we won’t forget you.”

He looked toward her, eyes soft. “Of course we will. I’d never suggest otherwise.”

“Crazy how stars live and die one after the other with no choice in the matter.”

He picked up her line of thought without hesitation. “Every star is unique, Faith. They shine in their own ways, brighter depending on who views them and when. It’s constantly changing. No star can ever be duplicated.”

“So I’m not just Buffy’s stand in?”

“Of course not. We’re talking about stars. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He looked at her, she looked at him, neither said a word as they turned back to the night sky. Here with him now she looked up again, spotting Sirius. It was in a different place, they were in another country altogether, but she pointed to it. 

“That’s Sirius, the dog star; you taught me that. It used to guide lost sailors home. It’s always there, never changing, like a dog. It saved people and brought them home to their loved ones.”

She wasn’t talking about stars, either. He stayed transfixed, staring at the sky before looking at her again. He opened his mouth again to say something but again the words didn’t come. The same frustrated hue was cast over his body and she felt sorry for him. A Giles without words was probably his idea of hell. She couldn’t imagine the things he was thinking, feeling, unable to express himself. 

“Here.” She handed him the football. “Why don’t we exercise a little while B sleeps?”

She backed away from him, keeping him in sight. He looked down at the ball and then at her, tossing it as he had before. She ran a few steps and caught it, flinging it back to him without hesitation. She saw the change in him immediately, his eyes never straying from the ball. He ran to catch it, calculating where she was and sending it off toward her with pinpoint accuracy and strength. As they played they drifted further and further apart until there was nearly half a football field between them. She found herself relaxed, wishing they’d done something like this before. He appeared to be having fun as well, a pleased grin on his lips. He dove for her throw, catching the ball and craddling it to his chest. He went down and rolled in the grass. She let out a cry and began running toward him. He had begun to get back up, ball in hand, when her foot caught in a hole hidden in the grass. Her ankle twisted and down she went, landing on her side heavily. Her head hit a rock, leaving her a little dazed. She saw his face hovering over her and felt his strong arms scooping her up. She tried to protest that it wasn’t necessary, that she could walk, when she realized he was carrying her - touching her willingly. In fact, he was carrying her back toward the dim glow of the fire. 

“I’m ok,” she promised but as she said it a wave of dizziness washed over her. She moaned softly, reaching up to feel a lump swelling at the base of her skull.

He laid her down next to the fire pit, piling some of the wood they had onto it to build the flames back up. The warmth felt nice. She realized how tired she was and tried to wake Buffy, her arm reaching for the blonde before she drifted off. She woke to sunlight streaming through the trees. It took effort to push herself up, the ground hard on her body. 

“B?”

She saw Giles sleeping curled against the base of a tree first. She turned and saw Buffy staring at what appeared to be a deer hanging from a tree. It was bound by its entrails to a limb, hooves tied together around the branch, skinned and prepped. The skin was draped over the same limb. The wide eyes and sour frown explained how horrified her counterpart was. 

“He went hunting.”

“Yeah, after you fell asleep.”

“We were playing catch last night,” she tried to explain.

“Catch?”

“The football I brought. Figured it might be a good way to get that energy out without violence.” Thankfully, the blonde nodded and didn’t want to argue about that. “Anyway, I fell and hit my head on a rock. He carried me back to camp. I tried to wake you but I guess I passed out.”

“He carried you?”

“Yep.” She nodded. “He came to check on me when I fell, wanted to see if I was ok.”

“He’s providing for us.”

“He’s trying to. Twice last night I think he wanted to say something but the words didn’t come. It made him angry. He knows something’s up, B, he just doesn’t remember what yet. He’s learning.”


	5. Chapter 5

Days passed. 

The more time they spent together the more he came to realize he could trust them. When they brushed him accidentally he didn’t flinch. He disappeared to hunt with Buffy during the day and played catch with Faith in the evenings. He rarely slept, only a little in the wee hours before dawn. It was never great sleep. When he began to moan with nightmares, one of the slayers would hold his hand and tell him it was ok. He’d still usually wake, wide, fear laden eyes telling his story. The Hellmouth was not kind and though they had taken him from it they could not remove it from him, not entirely.

They kept him in the calm of the forest, easing him back into civilization. 

“He’s starting to get a little ripe,” Buffy observed quietly, watching him play with his favorite toy, the football. He’d been throwing it from one side of camp to the other, trying outrun it fast enough to catch before it got the other side. He was close. 

“I took him last time!” She insisted quietly. “You know he fights it.”

“I can’t see that,” Buffy shuddered. Apparently the only time she took him had been quite the trauma. They brought half the stream back with them, dripping through the forest. She looked like a drowned rat, shivering as she tried to fling the water from her body. Faith had to struggle not to laugh her ass off. “Not again. It’s creepy”

“Alright, I’ll handle it.” She sighed. “Hey, G.”

He’d learned his name in their time together, responding to the names given to him by both girls. His eyes moved to her when she addressed him. She nodded away from camp through the woods. In her hand she carried some towels, a washcloth, and soap. 

“Come on.”

He put the ball down and followed her, trusting her to lead. She noticed that the edge was never entirely gone when he was in unfamiliar territory. She could see it in the way he carried himself, a natural predator. His hand was never far from his knife. She suspected if she gave him a sword it would be game over for any enemy he met. He looked nothing like his age should have suggested. They moved away from camp and found the stream that bubbled through the woods. The sun had been with them the past few days and the edge of the water wasn’t very cold. She dipped her toe in, decided it was ok and began to get undressed. 

“It’s bath day, Giles, whether you like it or not.”

He looked dubious about this prospect and frowned. She met that with an implacable frown of her own. He growled. She shook her head, arms crossing over her chest. He sighed and tugged his shirt off. She took his knife, laying it on the rocks in case he wanted to try to shave. Since they’d been there he had the beginnings of a beard going. She turned as he got naked waiting until he waded into the water before turning back around. She never could pull her eyes from his muscles or the way the water gleamed on them. It was all kinds of messed up, but sometimes she just couldn’t help herself. 

She kept her underwear on, wading into the water. She wet the cloth and began washing herself, watching him do the same. When she was finished lathering her cloth up she handed the soap to him. Seeing him today she realized he was gaining weight. The deer he’d caught a few days ago had provided plenty of food, most of the meat smoking so it wouldn’t spoil. He had a ravenous appetite with a steady food source and she was gratified to see his shape filling out again. He was still pure marble, but it sat healthier on him now. 

“Turn around.”

She lathered the cloth again and ran it down his back, reaching the places he couldn’t on his own. She ran the cloth over his skin, making sure to lather it well before she rinsed it off. She turned to go when he caught her by the hand, offering his cloth to her. She grinned, turning her back toward him. Carefully he brushed his cloth against her back, as if scared he might hurt her. She unhooked the back of her bra, giving him access to her entire back. He took care of her, tenderly repeating the same things she did for him. She hooked her bra again and turned around.

“Thank you, G.”

“F-” She froze with the first sound he’d made in nearly a week. “F-aith.”

“Giles…” Her mouth dropped open, looking up into his eyes. They were shining with pride. “That’s...oh, man, that’s great to hear coming from you.”

She wanted to hug him and started to before she caught herself. He backed up, confused by her arms outstretched. She let them fall. 

“That’s good, G. Real good. Can’t wait until you tell Buffy what her name is. She’ll love it.”

She sat on the large rock beside the stream to dry off in the sun. She offered him his knife, miming a shave. He took it. They discovered that some things he remembered for himself. They weren’t his first instincts but some things, like shaving, were innate. Especially when it came to survival and self care. Those he had down cold. She trusted him not to butcher himself with that knife and laid back to close her eyes. Sleep wasn’t had much these days. She was too worried something would come along and break the calm and send him spiraling again. Eventually they’d have to take him back into the world, but for now she wasn’t going to risk it. 

He touched her arm and she realized she’d been dozing. She blinked in the strong sunlight and saw him clean shaven, but bleeding here and there. He reached a hand to help her up, tugging her to her feet. He tugged a little too hard, catching her against his body. She looked up at him, pausing, remembering the last time she’d been this close, held with his arm around her back. His grip was firmer this time, more sure. 

“Giles,” she went to move away but realized he was holding her in place, staring at her. Studying her. This wasn’t good. Red panic buttons were going off in her head. “Giles, let me go.”

Instead of letting her go, he bent his head to offer his lips to hers. More warning lights flashed but the single overriding voice told her he was remembering and that couldn’t be ignored. She tilted her chin up and took what was offered, letting him decide what to do with it. The kiss went deep immediately: passionate, desperate. It was nearly the same intoxicating moment it had been that night. When he released her, she had to take a second to gather her thoughts. They didn’t get much beyond a swirling mud puddle, impossible to see through.

“Do you remember that night?”

He didn’t respond, frowning thoughtfully. She felt the tingle of his lips against hers and turned away, touching them with her fingertips. She started walking and he fell into step beside her. Before getting to the campsite she stopped him, looking him in the eye.

“Giles, you can’t do that again.” She didn’t want to take advantage or whatever fucked up shade of grey this was. “I know you’re confused, but that’s just not something we can do, ok? It’s not right.”

She was just as much to blame, just as confused. 

“What’s not right?”

She hadn’t heard the blonde approach and jumped. 

“Nothing.”

Giles went into camp and cut a section from the meat reserve. He seemed to know when to get the hell out of dodge. ‘Bastard’ Faith thought ruefully, sidestepping the other girl. 

“How’d it go?”

“It was fine. Normal time.”

“Faith?” The warning tone made her cringe.

“Buffy.”

Both women turned around at the same time to look at the Watcher, smiling proudly at both of them. The beginnings of an argument were forgotten as she stepped forward. The blonde was beaming, reaching for his hand. He let her take it as Faith watched. She looked back excitedly over her shoulder which earned a nod from her. 

“I take it back,” she thought, grateful for the assist. “You’re a fucking god.”

Her shift ended and she let her counterpart take over as she laid down. She woke to the usual thrashing, realizing immediately that she’d slept too long. He was dreaming again and from the sound of it, they were winning. She was about to get up and comfort him when she heard singing. Buffy was singing to him, a soft lullaby. With great care she turned and caught sight of his head in her lap and the blonde bent over him, singing as she held him and pet his hair. Before her eyes he began to quiet again, his tight muscles relaxing as his tension eased. His brow unfurrowed and his body stopped thrashing. After a few minutes he was back to breathing evenly. She continued to hold him for long minutes after that, tears in her eyes. 

She finally got up after laying him back down gently, moving toward the fire. Faith joined her, making her wakefulness known.

“Sorry I overslept.”

“I figured you could use it. You’ve been putting in a lot of time with him.”

“What were you singing?”

“You heard that?” She sighed. “It’s a lullaby my mom used to sing to me. It makes me think of her. I miss her so much sometimes. If I lost him too, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“He’s not going anywhere.”

“But what if he’s not the same? What if he never goes back to being Giles?”

“We deal with the new normal.” Faith thought about it a moment before adding. “No matter what, he’s still Giles. He’s always gonna be Giles. I told him we wouldn’t forget, and we’re not gonna.”

“When did that happen?”

Faith put on a pot for coffee and told her the story in a quiet voice while he really slept for the first time since he came back.


	6. Chapter 6

“Ssslayer…”

No. That voice. Not right now. Faith bolted awake in a cold sweat. She sat where she was, trying to thaw the ice in her veins. The fire was dying, both Buffy and Giles were sleeping. He’d mostly gotten on schedule by now, sleeping at night, and so long as someone was close he slept the night through most of the time. It was passing quickly, too quickly. Two weeks had come and gone since they got him back. She’d almost forgotten about the deal she made to do it but it seemed like the first payment was due. Without prompting she knew he was waiting for her and got up quietly to go meet him. 

“I’m here.”

“Yesss. Ssso good of you to come quickly. It’s time to pay for his soul.”

“What do I have to do?”

“There’s a nest of demons not far from here. They have sssomething valuable of mine. I want you to get it back.”

“So I go in and kick some demon ass and we’re square?”

“Of course not. Do you think that kind of magic is ssso easily made? You are mine, Ssslayer. For the ressst of your life.” 

“And if I don’t?”

“I kill you and sssend him back to the Hellmouth.”

She shook with fear, and not of the demon in front of her, but of his absolute control over her. Hating it, she nodded. “What am I looking for?”

“A ssstone. They don’t even know what they have, but it is a very powerful ssstone. Bring it to me.”

“A rock?” That didn’t sound that impressive. 

“You will know it when you sssee it.”

He was gone, blinking out of existence so quickly she was startled by it. She didn’t want to leave him and knew that when she tried to go Buffy would want to know why, ask questions. Worse, would he understand? She didn’t have a choice, unwilling to do anything under the threat of having him sent back to the Hellmouth. This was her bed and she was going to have to lie in it. 

“B.” She shook the other’s foot gently, kneeling by her side. “B, I need to go.”

“Go? Go where?” Sleep heavily accented her voice as she turned, looking up. 

“Just into the city. Shouldn’t be long, a day or two probably.”

“Why?”

“Need to blow off some steam; you know me.” She hoped the lie was convincing.

“Now?”

“You can handle him. He’s coming around, right? It’ll be fine.”

“Faith, I don’t know.”

“I’m gonna go, B. With or without your blessing.”

The blonde was awake now and frowned but she didn’t protest further. She only watched as Faith gathered a few things from the duffles, intending to stop at the house for a proper shower and a sword before she went. She tried not to look her in the eye as she moved, casting one last glance to the sleeping Watcher. She didn’t get far before she heard someone running up behind her. She turned, seeing it was him, and relaxed. He looked at her questioningly, shaking his head at her. 

“I gotta go but I’ll be back,” she promised. “It won’t be that long.”

He shook his head again, reaching for her hand. He moved to tug her back to camp and she resisted, pulling her hand from his strong grip.

“I gotta,” she repeated. “I don’t have a choice.”

He began to walk past her, toward the house. She stopped him. 

“You can’t come.” He pointed to his knife. She shook her head. “I’ll be safe.”

He pouted, giving her soulful eyes. She shuddered, continuing to shake her head. She wasn’t going to let him change her mind, putting her foot down despite her melting heart. 

“Please, G. I can’t let you come.”

“Faith.” He said it softly, holding her hand with that puppy expression watching her. “Pl-please.”

She shook her head, trying not to give in. “I’ll come back soon as I can.”

She turned and took off running before she could change her mind and expose him to danger or worse, make him backslide on the progress he’d made. He didn’t follow and only when she saw the lights of the cottage ahead did she slow. Xander and Willow had questions of their own, which she ignored, showering and picking up a good sword from the armony. The great thing about Giles was that he kept a decently stocked arsenal wherever he went. She brushed off their questions as she left, knowing they would probably tell Buffy what they’d seen.

She took the car, driving into town following the directions the demon just placed in her head. She knew what they were and where they hid, shuddering at the size of them. Possibly, this was suicide. She tried not to think of that but if it did happen, well, at least he was safe. Pushing those thoughts away she stepped out into the dimly lit tunnel, one of the network lines that ran beneath the city. She clicked on a flashlight she’d grabbed, feeling better with the weight of the axe she’d brought on her back. She heard them moving as the tunnel widened into an open room. She clicked off the flashlight as soon as she heard them, noticing that the room they were in was lit by torches. 

The axe sang from its holder and the demons turned in unison as the Slayer entered the room. They all snarled, a bellowing roar from the leader echoed into the hallway behind her as she looked at him. She allowed herself to forget anything else but the roar of battle and the adrenaline pumping through her veins. A hazy cloud covered her eyes and by the time it cleared the walls were painted with vivid orange blood. She let out a shuddering breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, looking down to realize that the orange blood was mingled with red. Her blood. Not feeling any pain she looked around for this stone the demon wanted so badly. 

This should have been a good day. She should have been happy to kill off an entire den of demons that could as easily hurt people as not. She wasn't. The weight of her servitude sat too heavily on her heart for her to feel any of the good benefits slaying brought. Tears slipped down her cheeks. 

“Syvvlin.”

She was pretty sure he could hear her. Sure enough, he materialized two feet from where she stood between her and a dismembered demon. Despite the torches his face was still a blur of shadow beneath his hood. A low growl seemed to resonate from beneath the hood, radiating around them like a warm blanket. She shivered, hating him.

“Good work Sslayer. The fury is impressive. You have a gift for thisss violence.”

“Not anymore,” she spat back automatically. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“You had a choice,” he disagreed. “And you chose ssso well. Look around you. This isss what you were made for. Death is your gift.”

“Just take your damn rock. I need to get back.”

Her hands clenched in fists by her side but she didn’t dare try to strike. He turned and his eyes fell on the black stone on the floor among the orange, sticky blood. Inside the stone a dark purple light seemed to throb. He picked it up and placed it within the folds of his robe before turning back to his unwilling slave. 

“I will call upon you when I need you again, Ssslayer. Ssstay sssharp.”

His mocking laughter didn’t disappear with him and only once he’d gone did she sag against a nearby wall. She was covered in goo, a little more wasn’t going to hurt her. She stayed there braced against the wall until she was sure her legs would support her weight. She wobbled from the tunnels, driving herself back to his flat. She let herself in and took a scalding shower. She let it pound against her until the searing water turned freezing cold. She toweled off and changed her clothes, taking the others back to camp to burn. Seeing the ring of firelight, her heart just wanted to be back there in the quiet, losing herself to a bigger, greater purpose. Instead she turned away and walked toward the stream, setting up a fire along the shore. 

When she tossed her clothes the flames leapt sky high for a moment before burning back down. She sat on the big boulder hugging her knees as she watched the clothing burn. 

“Faith.”

She turned around and saw him behind her, no worse for the wear in the time she’d been gone. A sight for sore eyes she took him in like a man in the desert to an oasis. It seemed like forever but had only been the day or two she promised. Tears welled up in her eyes and she couldn’t stop them this time. She didn’t want to become the person she’d been, even for him. She felt his arms come around her and she didn’t hesitate to wrap hers around him, letting out all of her fears and frustrations. He held her, making strange noises that she suspected were meant to comfort her. 

“Faith.” 

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, looking down at her. He brushed his thumbs under her eyes, catching her tears to wipe away with a soulful look. He knelt in front of her, searching her eyes while she watched him. He looked every bit like the Watcher she knew.

“It,” he hesitated. “It’s ok.”

She gasped, her mouth falling open again.

“When did you start talking?” 

He gave her a befuddled look, his eyebrows quirking cutely. He shook his head after a moment. She touched his arm and he looked down at her.

“I know you understand more than you realize. I know it’s all locked away inside of you, Giles, and you’ll get to it in your own time but god damned if I couldn’t use one of your lectures right about now.”

His confusion turned into serene joy, a smile lighting his lips. He pointed into the night sky and found Sirius without much searching. 

“Star.” He looked deeply concerned, pointing harder before looking back to her face. “Sirius star.”

“I know. I know. We’re going to lead you home.”

“No.” He shook his head and then pointed to himself. “Star.”

“You think I’m the lost one now?” Wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? “You’re gonna come find me?”

“Star.” He nodded vigorously, taking up her hand. “Home.”

He stopped suddenly, sniffing the air. A growl rumbled in his chest like thunder, a rolling sound that threatened darkness with it. He leaned closer to her and sniffed again, frowning, and began searching her. She let out a protest, being poked and prodded by the feral Watcher before he picked up her shirt and sniffed it. Angrily, he pointed to a spot along the bottom hem. She saw it stained orange, not a great look. He pointed again, emphatically, frowning at her and making a strange cluck cluck sound with his tongue.

“It’s blood. Not mine.” She’d taken care of her wounds at his flat. “That’s where I was. Hunting.”

He growled again, pointing to his knife and to a streak of red on a bandage wrapped around her arm. 

“It’s no big deal.” She looked at the bandage and cursed that it was bleeding again. She turned her eyes to him and shook her head. “I heal clean, like a Slayer. It’s fine.”

“Faith!” He protested angrily.

“I couldn’t let you come with. If I got you in a room with that many demons I might have lost you. You could have died. Or we could have lost everything with you becoming whatever it was you became to survive in there.”

Neither option was going to be acceptable. 

He began searching her body again and she cried out as he got much too familiar, running his hands across her skin. He encountered a few more bandages, making her wince and hiss in pain, and began to try to take off her shirt before she stopped him. She put both hands around his wrists and eased him away, stepping back as she did so. She appreciated the sentiment but apparently his time in the Hellmouth stripped away his sense of personal space.

“Whoa there.” She let him go, watching him carefully. “You can’t go doing that. I took care of myself, no need for you to go double checking.”

He looked away, frowning. She could see the tension in his shoulders and the slight tremble in his arms. 

“I wish I knew what you were thinking.”

“No,” he disagreed, and began walking back toward camp.


	7. Chapter 7

Her reception by the other Slayer left a lot to be desired. 

“Where were you?” She demanded the minute Faith got back to camp. She saw the bandages and her eyes narrowed, her hands going to her hips. “You’ve been fighting!”

“I said I was going to blow off steam.”

“How hurt are you?”

“Few cuts and scrapes. I’ll live.”

They both kept their voices low, not to spook him, but the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. There was a tense standoff before the blonde realized Giles was nowhere to be seen. She looked all around camp, leading the other girl to catch on, and they both called his name. A single heart thudding moment had Buffy worrying that he was alone in the woods they’d never see him again unless he wanted to be found. She turned her angry eyes to her counterpart, trembling with fear and anger.

“What did you do?”

“What I did?” Faith shot back, clenching her hands in fists more readily than Buffy. “You only had to watch out for him for two days!”

“I did watch him. He was fine. He was doing better without you here!”

That hurt. Faith couldn’t hide the wince as the words sank in and Buffy’s face softened with guilt. She let her hands drop from her hips and moved forward, shaking her head.

“Faith, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“You’re probably right.”

“No,” she disagreed firmly. “I’m not. You’ve been good for him. You get him in a whole different way than I do.”

“We have to go find him.”

“We have to get along.”

“Yeah,” she shifted uncomfortably.

“Split up?”

“Yeah.”

Buffy grabbed her flashlight knowing that if he didn’t want to be found he probably wouldn’t. This was his cabin and he’d spent much more time in these woods than they had even if he wasn’t consciously aware of it. Or maybe he was. She knew his mind was always working, learning, in the progress he’d made with them already. He wasn’t anything like the man she remembered but there were moments when something he did or said reminded her so much of her Giles that she wanted to cry. 

“Giles!” 

She moved into the woods where he’d run off, heading east while the other woman headed left. Her eyes scanned the woods looking for any sign of her Watcher among the trees. Like he taught her she opened all of her senses, allowing them to drift as far as they could go. She felt her consciousness being pulled in a direction and followed, stopping every so often to readjust her direction. Then the trail was gone. She looked around and didn’t see him, searching the darkness for any sign of him. 

“Giles.” 

There was a rustling in the trees and she shone her flashlight into the branches. He was crouched in a fork in the limbs that could support his weight. He hid his face from the light, ducking it behind a thick limb. She turned it off and stood in silence for a minute.

“I wish you hadn’t seen that.”

Suddenly she was a teenager again listening to her parents fighting. Joyce would come into her room and find her there, silent tears streaking her face. They couldn’t hide the fights no matter how hard they tried and she knew it was the beginning of the end. The speech began with “I wish you hadn’t seen that” and ended with Hank Summers packing a suitcase and leaving. He never came back. At least she was familiar enough with the speech to give it herself. 

She moved to climb the tree, gracefully hauling herself into the limbs to sit down near him. He peeked at her.

“Things with Faith are...complicated. But we both care about you and we want you to be safe. And happy.” 

At least she was being honest with him. It was a fight. They happened, but she didn’t want him to think it was his fault. She also didn’t know why, after all this time, that Faith kept her secrets. It was just how things were and probably would always be. 

“I wish you could let me know you remember something.”

He stared at her, brow furrowed and eyes wide open, taking all of her in. He was trying, she could see that. 

“Maybe we should take you to the cottage.”

It had been long enough in the woods, probably. Maybe he could rediscover himself there better than he could here. They’d be with him and those were things he’d had for a long time, longer than he’d known them. She gave him a shy smile, reaching for his hand. They sat in silence in the tree for a while, holding hands, staring up at the sky through the leaves. As the breeze blew the leaves shifted and showed brief glimpses of the blanket of navy blue overhead and the scattered diamond stars winking at them from millions of light years away. 

He growled, turning his head and scenting the air, his voice gravelly. He leapt from the tree, landing heavily on the ground. Before she could protest he was off and running, a streak of a Watcher through the woods. She jumped down and tried to follow but he out distanced her and she lost sight of him in the dark treeline. It was a wonder and she finally slowed to a stop, defeated. 

Faith had gone too far into the woods. She wasn’t lost, but she wasn’t exactly sure which way camp was either. She was trying to decide which direction to go when she heard the chorus of growls around her. All she had on her was her knife, nothing more practical than that. She hadn’t expected there to be demons in these woods considering they’d been there for days without any evidence of them. Whatever it was out there, she was uneasy thinking about facing them by herself. Then, suddenly, there was familiar growling behind her. She turned, spotting a ferocious looking watcher who was watching her with his eyes darting to the trees every few seconds. 

“Faith.” The rumbling growl of her name sent a shiver down her spine. 

“Demons. Big ones. Four, maybe five.”

“Krakoh demon.”

“What now?”

“Claws. Poison.”

He looked at her knife and then to the one in his own hand. Whatever else it meant, beating these things meant getting up close and personal with them. It wasn’t something that made her giddy with excitement. Poison, especially demonic poison, didn’t sound like a good time. They broke through the treeline in a minutes time, shaggy creatures with dripping fangs and wicked looking claws. Faith took a deep breath, nodding her head as she and Giles went into action at the same time. What little she could see from the corner of her eye was that the Watcher was a savage beast. He moved as if he’d been born to the fight and not her. She was mostly too busy worrying about her own problems as two of the snarling demons cornered her. 

With her back up against a tree, literally, the Slayer tilted her head thoughtfully. 

“Which one of you wants to die first?”

They both seemed fairly eager, coming at her at the same time. She ducked the first swipe, slamming her elbow into the solid torso of the other. Beneath the scraggly fur it was as if the demons were made of concrete. She winced, wishing Giles had mentioned that in his description. A set of wicked looking claws came rushing toward her. She deflected the hit, feeling as it tore into her shoulder instead of her throat. She barely paused, slamming her knife through the throat of the demon to her right. It slid free as the thing fell at her feet leaving just the one for her to deal with. It roared at the loss of its comrade, attacking that much harder. She maneuvered to the left but it caught her arm in its powerful jaws. Its venom dripped down her arm. She swore and caught the claws coming toward her, wondering how she was going to work this before she saw another pair of hands wrap around its neck. They hauled it back and it released her arm as it tried to fight back. 

Giles grappled with the demon, holding it tightly and keeping his body close to the demon’s to help keep him safe. He was sweating, covered in demon blood and his own, and snarled every bit as ferociously as his opponent. All at once the neck snapped and the demon let out a pitiful whine before it fell. With all of the demons dead he was left alone with her, continuing to snarl. His knife was out in front of him, defensive, and the bloodlust wasn’t out of his eyes. He growled, his lips twitching. Her breath caught in her throat; they were worried this would happen.

“Giles, it’s ok. It’s me. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He advanced, seemingly unaffected by her words. She backed up as he moved forward with her hands raised.

“G, calm down, ok? Listen to the sound of my voice. I’m right here and you don’t want to hurt me. There’s no danger here anymore.”

He continued to advance until her back was to the same damn tree and she felt a bolt of panic shoot through her. Heat flushed through her, spreading across her skin like fire. Her arm throbbed but her hand still had a good grip on her knife. She didn’t want to do anything to him but there was no Willow this time to put him into a helpful sleep. 

“Don’t make me hurt you, Giles.” She begged quietly, earnestly. 

Her vision began to blur and she wavered on her feet. The last thing she remembered was him leaping at her before she sank into darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

“What’s wrong?”

Buffy sounded much too far away but her eyelids were too heavy to open and see. She was...there were hands on her and two bands of metal under her knees and back. Her head was...there was a steady beat beneath her ear that fluctuated from time to time as her head lulled. The ride wasn’t exactly smooth; she was aware of jostling but her body felt too dull to care. Everything faded after a minute and she welcomed the relief. 

“What’s wrong?” Buffy repeated as her fellow slayer was set on the couch. 

“Poison.” He admitted. “Bad.”

Willow was there with water to clean the wounds and Xander already had his coat on to get into town to get more medical supplies. All of them were sure that a hospital wouldn’t be able to help them the way they needed. The only hope was whatever was locked away in Giles’ brain. The brunette moaned as she drifted in and out of consciousness, looking pale. Sweat began to shine on her brow and chest in the dim light. The Watcher was right there with her, holding her hand. He was frowning, whining softly as he watched her for any sign of change. When Willow brought water and a cloth he would not allow anyone else to tend her but himself and growled when anyone tried. 

With a lack of better things to do Buffy busied herself in making tea, something she was very used to in the past to soothe Giles. Now she wasn’t sure if he’d like it or not. Her best friend joined her in the little kitchen a minute later, frowning.

“She’s not looking good.”

“I know,” she shook her head. “I just wish there was a way to-”

She let go of the teacup and stepped away. As soon as she did the redhead noticed her hands were balled in fists. She moved toward her and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing sympathetically.

“It would be so much easier if we could get..” She trailed off, looking distant for a moment. “Maybe we can.”

“Can what? I’m not following you, Will.”

“Get into his head. I mean, not physically, but magically. Maybe he’s still there somewhere.”

“Wait, that’s an option? Why didn’t we try that sooner?”

“Well, cause, um.” She shrugged. “We didn’t think of it?”

“Well, let’s get on that train. I’m fully on board. What do we need?”

“I’ll check online and see what I can find.”

Buffy paced nervously, trying to hand Giles a cup of tea when it boiled only to have him wave her away. So she paced. He appeared annoyed, frowning at her as he watched. It seemed to feed his own nervousness. Willow looked up from her computer a long while later, grinning.

“I think I found a way to do it.”

“That’s great! So what do we need?”

The witch rambled off a few common things that Giles was sure to have around the house. Even though this was his escape from everything he didn’t really go anywhere without stocking his houses with the basics: magical supplies, medical supplies, and weapons. For someone that knew what went bump in the night the habit was hard to break. It took come coaxing to get him away from Faith but she managed it, getting him into a circle with her. 

“Giles, I need you to trust me.” 

She took his hands and let her friend begin to light candles. She smiled reassuringly at the man sitting across from her, whose eyes were downcast at their joined hands. The redhead began to chant softly and Giles started, trying to get away. Buffy held him with her, whispering to him soothingly. When the spell hit she slumped to the side and laid on the carpet, seeing him lying across from her before she gave in to darkness.

“Giles?”

Everything was dark. Nothing had form or presence, only darkness. She could see herself, but nothing beyond her body. She knew where she was supposed to be and panicked, thinking maybe it had all backfired on her. 

“Buffy?” 

She turned around and saw Giles behind her, wearing his usual tweed suit and standing in what looked like his study, only things were different somehow. Everything about him was welcome and familiar from his glasses to his hair cut down to his shoes. He rushed toward her, putting his arms around her immediately in an enthusiastic hug. He held her to him for several long minutes, letting her take comfort in him as much as he took comfort in her. When they parted she cupped her face and looked her over, shaking his head in wonder.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you, really see you.”

“What do you mean?” 

“This,” he gestured to the room around them, “is where I’ve been all this time. I’m aware of what’s happening to me but that darkness...I can’t get past it.”

“I don’t know what that means, Giles.”

“You don’t understand the unspeakable things I had to do in the Hellmouth to survive and I pray you never have to know. Everything that was civilized and good about me had to be packed away so I could become what I had to in order to do what was needful in there. I would try to be myself when I could but little by little it was harder to reach. I found myself in here locked away by all this darkness.”

“You’re trapped in your own head?”

“Yes, essentially.” He frowned, sitting in a chair. 

“We got you out after only a few weeks. How could it be so bad?”

“A few weeks?” He shook his head, shuddering at the thought. “Buffy, I was in that horrible place for six years.”

“What?!”

“I didn’t seem to age but time has a certain flow I came to understand down there. Six years passed waiting to be rescued, near as I can tell.”

The blonde’s face fell, her hands dropping from her hips to helplessly at her side. She hated the idea of it and wished they’d been faster or smarter, or something. She thought about how she’d gotten angry at Faith for being rash but it seemed like that was the right thing to do now that she knew how time ticked away for him. 

“You were down there a year for every week that passed here,” she realized sadly. “Faith did something to get you out. I was angry with her at the time but now…”

She realized she hadn’t checked in with the brunette to figure out what it was she had done to bring him back. They’d both been so preoccupied with his peace of mind and safety they’d forgotten all else. Guilt struck her a little for that because it had worked, whatever it was, and she remembered that it was done in blood. There might have been unintended side effects because of it. If she made it through this, when she reminded herself, it was time for the Slayers to have a real talk.

She realized he was watching her.

“Let’s talk about Faith, Buffy.”

“She’s not doing very well.” She admitted. “You’ve been by her side constantly. You probably knew that, though. Didn’t you?”

“I did,” he nodded, “Krakoh venom is particularly nasty.”

“How do we fix it?”

“If I had my books here I could research it, maybe give you something with enough time.”

“We don’t have a lot of that, time.”

“In dreams, which I believe this to be, time moves differently. What may in reality be five minutes could feel like fifty.”

“Great! That’s good. So we have time to find everything for Faith.”

“I don’t have my books.” 

“You’re a walking book, Giles. If this is your brain we’ve got everything we need inside here. You know stuff you probably don’t even know you know!”

She gave him her pleading eyes, the ones he was rarely able to resist, and he relented as expected. He went to stand before his bookshelf and closed his eyes, focusing a moment on what he needed. The books appeared to reorder themselves, changing before her eyes. He opened his and picked a few of them off the shelf, handing one to his Slayer. It appeared to be in English so she took it and sat down. When she opened the book she noticed chunks of text were missing and showed him.

“Oh, well, my knowledge of all the sections may not be complete.” He frowned. “But it might be enough to save Faith.”

She bent over the book and started reading, trying to take as much of it in as possible. She saw Giles writing on a notepad, absorbed in his text, too. She found herself watching him more than she was paying attention to her book, much to her chagrin. This Giles, this was the one she missed and desperately wanted the guidance of again. 

“Ah ha.” 

“Ah ha? This is a good sound. Tell me.”

“It sounds counter intuitive but I think I know how to prevent this venom from killing her.”

“How?”

“This is the counter intuitive bit. We infect her with the venom of another demon. The Lotarras demons are low level scavengers often to be found around demon rich areas. They’ll eat anything, particularly around large kills. There’s a book on the shelf in the living room that will show you what they look like.”

“Ok, I’ll try to get a lead on large kills in the city.” She didn’t relish that but there wasn’t any choice. “How long does she have, Giles?”

“A day, perhaps two if she wasn’t very infected, but nothing more than that. Her fever is fairly high already so I think we have less time than that. The sooner she gets the rival venom, the better off she’ll be.”

“I miss you.”

He looked up at her offering a half smile as he did. 

“I’m fighting hard as I can to get back to you every day.”

“I know. It’s just been a long time since you’ve been you. I feel like right now Faith knows you better than I do and it’s...weird.”

“I’m not surprised. She understands being wild much more than you do. She was raised differently than you were, without the love and guidance you had. You both have been good for me in your ways. Believe me, I might have been lost without you both.”

He hugged her, wrapping both arms around her to hold close. They both needed it. She closed her eyes and noticed that he even smelled like himself, woodsy aftershave and tea. His arms felt wonderful around her until she felt something drawing her back, away from him. Panicking, she held him tighter, not wanting to let go yet. 

“No!” 

“You have to go. Much as I want you here, we have little choice. Faith’s life is at stake.”

“Come back to us. Come back to all of us. We need you, Giles.”

“As soon as I’m able, Buffy, I promise.”

The tug pulled her back into the darkness and she woke up a short time later to spot him on the rug across from her again. For the first time in a while she had hope and that was an amazing thing. She pushed herself up knowing they didn’t have a lot of time. The witch was watching, standing up when Buffy moved and she grinned at her friend.

“Did it work?”

“He’s in there, Will. If I can find this book he was talking about I can cure her, maybe.” She looked at her other best friend. “Xander, can you get the car? I need you to take me into town.”

He nodded and grabbed the keys from their hook, ready anytime she gave the word. She moved to the shelf and searched for the book her told her about, pulling it out. It didn’t take her long to find the right demon, trying to memorize the picture. She doubted she’d have a hard time recognizing them in the field. She took a picture with her phone just in case and grabbed a sword from the chest where he kept his weapons. She looked back and saw Giles still asleep on the rug and Faith sweating on the couch. 

“If either of them look like they’re going sideways, call me.”

“I will.” The redhead nodded solemnly. 

She rushed out the door.


	9. Chapter 9

Despite not being Sunnydale it wasn’t hard to find someone in the know in London. She found herself in a seedy bar, not unlike Willy’s used to be, and looked across the dimly lit counter at the bartender. He was a greasy looking fellow named Alphonse that she didn’t want to be around for too long and not just because Faith’s life was on the line. His black hair was slicked back and one tooth was wrapped in gold. He reminded her of a caricature out of some bad 50s movie right down to mustache. 

“You might want to clear everyone out,” she warned, getting his attention.

“That so, cupcake? Don’t you think that’s a little forward of you?” He held up his hands. “Not that I’m saying I ain’t interested or anything.”

“I’m the Slayer, maybe you’ve heard of me?”

“I know. I could smell it on ya when you walked into the joint.” He frowned. “Your kind ain’t good for business.”

“My kind?” She scoffed.

“You know, do gooders.” 

“Well, why don’t you send everyone home now, we can have a little chat, and then I’ll leave and never come back?”

“No, no. I’m not fallin’ for that! Once you get a taste you always come back.”

“Ok, ew.” Buffy pushed her hair away from her face feeling gross just standing there. Everything about this place was just disgusting including the patrons and bartender. “The sooner you give me what I want the sooner I can be out of here. Believe me, I’m not going to stick around.”

“What’ll you give me, cupcake?”

“How about I don’t break your face? Sound fair?”

“How about I have my friends here try to take down a Slayer? I know a few of them that would love to make your acquaintance.”

“They can try.” She returned, rolling her eyes. “And once I’m done with them I use the rest of my energy to hunt you down and show you how much I appreciate a warm welcome.” 

They were wasting time. She knew this sort of bravado was necessary in the back and forth between Slayer and weasley informant but she just couldn’t afford the time to waste. As they were talking Faith was slipping further and further away. She whipped out an arm and grabbed his head, slamming his face into the bartop. That got some attention and demons stood up in defense of their host. She growled and unsheathed her sword, leaving the bartender to recover for a moment.

“I wouldn’t,” she warned everyone, holding her sword in front of her, subtly defensive. 

She barely turned her face back toward him, lifting her hand from his neck so he could stand up again. He did, brushing himself off. She was torn between thinking he’d bolt or that she’d need to fight fairly soon. Maybe both. Neither option was particularly appealing, though. She growled.

“Can we cut the to chase already? What’s your price?”

“Oh,” he brightened and waved a hand; everyone sat down. “I like a straightforward broad. Hundred euros and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“A hundred euros - are you out of your mind?” She frowned, not wanting to give in so easily during negotiations, it sent the wrong sort of message, but also not wanting to waste time. “Fine.” 

She huffed and then handed him some of the money she had. It was enough that he grinned, pouring her a beer that she didn’t take before stuffing it in his pocket. He took a rag and wiped his blood from the counter nonchalantly, flicking his eyes over to the demonic customers scattered around the room.

“If you ask me, something nasty went down in the tunnels a few nights ago.”

“The tunnels?”

“The water tunnels. You can get from one end of the city to the other without ever seeing daylight, if you wanted to.”

It wasn’t comforting that vampires had a free route across town but that was a problem for future Buffy. She nodded at Alphonse to continue. 

“Anyway, something gruesome went on down there. Entire nest of demons gone in the blink of an eye. From what I hear, they weren’t even the dangerous kind. Peaceful unless attacked, or something. The whole thing reeks.”

“Got a better idea of location?”

He took one of the napkins from the counter and a pen from his pocket, sketching a rough map. He slid it across to her, what her euros paid for, and shrugged. She studied it but the most helpful thing were the cross streets he wrote on the edge of the white paper. 

“Thanks.”

She took the thing and headed toward the exit, walking with purpose back to the car. Together she and Xander drove across town to where the X on the map was. He parked and grabbed the flashlight while she went for the weapons. If these demons were scavengers, chances were they weren’t going to give up their venom willingly. It was only an off chance that they’d be there anyway and not some other sort of low level demons. 

The entrance to the tunnels wasn’t hard to find. She shone the light on the darkened interior, not really wanting to go in. 

“You first.” Xander joked. 

“My hero,” she deadpanned in return but took the lead as expected.

The smell hit them about a hundred yards in, the strong nauseating scent of dead flesh and the metallic scent of stale blood. She turned her back to it while Xander gagged, putting up a hand to cover his nose and mouth. 

“I’m not eating for a month,” he declared, shaking his head. “I didn't know he mean reeks literally.”

Buffy nodded, trying to do as little breathing as possible. Speaking was off the table for now, unless it was dire. She motioned them forward sure of their direction at least. As long as they followed that smell they were sure to find their slaughter. What the bartender told her ran in a loop through her head, repeating over and over. Something was off about it all, and not just the revolting stench. 

They turned a corner and it punched them in the face anew, forcing the humans to stop again.

“He said a few nights ago. How did it get this bad this fast?” She complained, pulling her shirt up to breath through the cloth. It didn’t help much.

“I don’t know. They were demons. Different biology?”

The scene appeared abandoned, bodies scattered through a large junction of tunnels. Orange blood was everywhere, pooled and crusted. Every time she broke through the seal on a puddle the smell got stronger making her eyes water. When she wiped away the tears with the back of her sleeve she spotted a patch of red in the orange. A small pool here, spatter of it there, out of place with the other. 

“Xander,” she pointed. He nodded.

She turned her attention to the bodies of the demons. That small feeling that something wasn’t right earlier came back full force, demanding that she pay attention to it. 

“These cuts are clean. Look, the edges aren’t jagged, like with claws. A blade made them. There’s blood scattered here, too. Human blood.” 

“Hunters?”

“I don’t think so.”

There were too many bodies and too little blood to think that a group of hunters had taken them on. If something like the Initiative had swept through there would have been evidence: multiple footprints, tech. There wasn’t any of that which only led to one inevitable conclusion. Slayer. Their Slayer. She scowled, shaking her head. A den like this alone was reckless, even for her. What was she thinking? It was amazing that she hadn’t come back with worse injuries. Her companion seemed to size it up at about the same time and sighed.

“You’re thinking Faith, aren’t you?”

“Has her signature on it, yeah.” 

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” She wasn’t the type to get her kicks destroying peaceful demons, not anymore. “But I’m gonna ask her when she wakes up.”

The hissing caught her by surprise. She looked around and didn’t see anything, cocking her head to try and figure out if the sound was coming from one of the tunnels. Xander took notice and his eyes narrowed a little as he frowned, hefting the axe he’d chosen. She looked down and realized that there were things inside of the demons, the skin moving subtly as the creatures wriggled around inside. Nausea that she half had under control reasserted itself, making her sick all over again.

“Oh, God.”

But they were the demons she was looking for. The picture just hadn’t led her to believe they’d be so small. The size of a lizard, they were low to the ground and lithe, hissing at her. One opened its mouth and spit at her, making her jump. The green goo hit the ground, mixing with the demon blood already there. It sizzled. 

“The venom.” She raised her one hand and the other put her sword away. “Wait!”

She motioned to Xander to do the same and he looked at her like she’d gone insane. Maybe she had, but in a place like this that reeked, literally, of death the last thing she wanted was to add to it unless she had no choice. The demons didn’t immediately attack, watching them closely. She dropped down, looking at the one that had emerged from its host first. 

“I need that venom.” She pointed to the green goo. “We’ll leave you alone if you let us have some.”

She reached for the bottle she brought with her, leading to a loud hiss from the demon directly in front of her. She stopped and raised the free hand, continuing to move slowly with the other until she produced the bottle. It was snagged from Giles’ magical cupboard, one of the spares he kept on hand. She unstopped it, setting it gently on the ground between the both of them.

“Please. It’s going to help my friend.” 

She wasn’t sure why she was talking to demons, or why she expected them to understand her, but she was desperate. Xander continued to look at her like she’d gone crazy, maybe she had, but it was too late to change it now. The demon skittered out of the body, moving to the bottle. It stood on its hind legs, putting the front ones on the bottle’s neck. It gnawed on the rim of it, green goo slipping down inside. It continued to chew on the glass, leaking more of the green venom until the bottom was covered over. She gasped in surprise that it worked, grateful that it had. 

“Thank you.” 

She told it sincerely, not offended when it skittered away as she reached for it. The stopper corked it tightly, just a little in the bottom. She hoped that was enough to help Faith. She motioned to Xander to leave first. He did, taking her lead by moving slowly back the way they came. She slipped the bottle into her pocket and stood, keeping her eyes on them until she got to the doorway. They both took off running, light from their flashlights bouncing with each step. When they made it back outside she gulped in deep breaths of fresh air, closing her eyes and giving herself a moment to be grateful that it wasn’t worse than she thought. She felt like she needed to take ten showers to wash out the whole experience.

“We gotta get back to Faith.”

“I know.” 

The drive back was quiet. She lost herself somewhere in the passing city lights until they were back out in the country and then she lost herself among the stars, staring out her window with no real thought in her head. She knew what she wanted, in a perfect world. She wanted to Faith not to die. She wanted her version of Giles back. She wanted to feel safe in her own corner of the world again. At least, as safe as she could feel being a Slayer. It felt more like she was trying harder to defend the life she knew than the world these days. It was a worthy fight, one she made every day, but right now the burden just felt...heavier. 

“Buff?”

She jerked, not sure if she’d been dozing or just really out of it. She saw her friend bent over outside the car, looking down at her. 

“Oh, we’re here.”

Whatever she’d been thinking got pushed down again, nestled down inside her while she took the larger concerns on head first. Faith was still on the couch when they got inside with Giles at her side. Willow looked worn, sitting on a chair near to the both of them. The brunette had progressed to sweating, moaning as she curled on her side. Her hair was matted to her head by sweat. Her face was drawn in pain. Though she was asleep, she didn’t look like she was resting, shifting and pressing her hands to her abdomen. 

The Watcher noticed her arrival and looked at her.

“Buffy.”

He looked back to the other slayer, seeming to understand that she’d gone to help her. She nodded and showed him the bottle, hoping that it sparked some sort of recognition in him between his buried self and the one he was now. He smiled, moving to let her have access, watching her like a hawk. She wasn’t sure how to administer the venom and when she moved to feed it to her her grabbed her wrist, shaking his head emphatically. He pointed to her bandages and then to the knife on the table. 

“Oh. It has to go into her blood.”

He nodded and smiled grimly to reassure her. Smiling did that, he found, despite the tension in the room. She picked up a knife and drew it across her arm. She jerked violently, letting out a cry. The blonde grabbed it and restrained her, amazed by how easy it was when it shouldn’t have been. She handed the bottle to him, letting him drip the goo onto the cut. It sizzled, smoke coming up that made her panic but he held her back, forcing her to watch as it worked its way into her body. A few seconds later there was nothing left to watch. She quieted a little, but that was all she did.

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

He gave her a quizzical look and then shook his head, frowning. That didn’t make her feel great but it was the best they had. 

“She’s burning up,” Willow told her. “I’ve been trying to keep cold packs on her but they don’t do anything anymore. She’s been like that almost as long as you’ve been gone.”

She nodded, walking past her friend upstairs to get that shower she needed. She let the hot water pound her, standing under it for a long time just letting it wash away her fear and doubt and the things she’d seen. She hugged herself, crying while the falling water covered the sound of it. All of it felt like too much to handle, but she didn’t have the luxury of letting someone else carry the load. It hurt, a deep visceral ache that reminded her how alone she’d been feeling for the past few weeks. She wasn’t ready to lose Faith and she wasn’t ready to be without Giles to turn to for advice. The world was perched precariously on its axis and she felt the off kilter tug of it all. 

She wiped away her tears and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her body. There was a small window beside the vanity with a pretty view of the barn and the woods beyond. The moon was turning full and was rising into the night sky. She looked beyond it to the stars, letting her eyes drift from one to the next until they settled on one that stood out to her. 

“Please,” she begged Sirius. “Please bring them back to me.”


	10. Chapter 10

She wasn’t sure when she’d fallen asleep. Waking with a start she realized she was leaning against the couch with her head on the armrest. She opened her eyes and saw Faith laying where she’d been the night before and Giles on the rug beside her. She realized she’d been draped with a blanket, pulling it close to stave off the morning chill. The first thing on her mind was her counterpart, reaching to touch her forehead. It was still sweat slick but significantly cooler than it had been the night before. Giles woke next to her, grunting, pushing himself to his knees. 

“Buffy,” he greeted gruffly, sleep coloring his voice. 

He ran a hand through his hair which didn’t do much more than push it back for a second before it popped back to be cutely rumpled. It took her a second to realize he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She’d become inured to his naked chest over their time in the woods but she noticed there was a change in him she hadn’t noticed on all the chaos. He’d filled in, a healthy roundness to his body. Though he still looked like he could bench press a boulder, he at least looked like he wasn’t starving anymore. He still ate like someone was going to attack him for food at any moment but at least he didn’t overeat at every meal like he had at first. She hated that he’d gone through that and didn’t let herself think of how many meals he’d missed or whatever it was that gave him the scars now cross crossing his body in various places.

He touched the brunette’s forehead, smiling to himself at what he felt. Then he got up and went to the kitchen, turning on the stove. He placed the kettle on the burner after filling it with water. Her jaw dropped and she didn’t utter a sound as she watched him work. When he was finished she continued to gape, prompting a confused glance from him.

“Giles, do you realize what you just did?”

“I’m making tea.”

She blinked. 

“Am I dreaming?” She pinched herself yelping as it hurt. Not dreaming. She slowly lifted her eyes back to his, tears glistening in them. “Giles?”

“Good morning.”

She let out a quiet gasp of relief, throwing herself into his arms and burying her face into his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her immediately, tugging her close. She didn’t mind that it hurt a little as she held him. He brought her chin up to look at him, not minding the streaks of tears down her cheeks or the damp spot on his shoulder. 

“I’ve missed you very much.”

“How?”

“I heard you crying last night. I had one Slayer dying, the other crying. There was a the weight to you that I hate to see and I just couldn’t stay silent. I…” He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “I don’t know how I did it. I just knew I had to.”

“It’s really you? You’re not going to go away again?”

“I truly don’t know, Buffy. I’m going to try not to but there’s a lot of darkness still there. I can’t promise to be every bit the man you want me to be, but I’m here now.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“Welcome back, G man!” 

He was so pleased he didn’t even chide the boy for the use of that horrible nickname. 

She had been hugging him for what felt like forever when she heard a yelp behind him. She turned to see a reahead coming straight toward them with the third in their trio close behind. They both wrapped him in enthusiastic hugs, smiles all around. He held them all, the original Scoobies, and smiled proudly at them in return. He hadn’t realized how much he missed this until he hadn’t been able to comport himself the way he was used to. The ideas were all there but the connection to it had been severed. He closed his eyes and let profound gratitude wash through him.

“You lot have done so well. I couldn’t be more proud of you.” 

“You came back, too,” Buffy whispered. She’d seen him trapped inside. She knew. 

“I should check on Faith.”

“Oh, right, yeah.”

Buffy felt bad for forgetting, even for a brief moment, that one of their rank wasn’t doing so well. She went to go with him to check on her but he stopped her, any of them, from leaving the kitchen. His frown wasn’t angry, but stern, a look they knew all too well. It was good to see it, and not so good.

“It’s my turn to take care of you; I insist. Go outside. I’m sure the horses could use tending and I’m sure you all could do with some fresh air and sunshine. Perhaps even go into town and enjoy it.”

“But what if you go back? You know, to not you?”

“I’ll call. You’re on speed dial.”

She tilted her head, frowning, but couldn’t pass up some time to relax. After all, it didn’t come easy with her destiny so it was best to grab it while she could. Despite her misgivings she nodded and sighed, willing to do as he said. She could see in the other two that they were just as eager to get out and explore. They may not have been in the woods with him but she knew they had been just as worried as the slayers over his wellbeing. They all needed a break. Both of her companions looked to her expectantly, following her lead. She relented.

“Xander, do you want to drive us into town? I think some time away would be good.”

“Sure thing, Buffster.”

He grinned and got the keys. Soon enough the trio was out the door, leaving the other two alone. He finished making his tea, savoring the simple smell of it at hand. Before it hadn’t appealed to him because to his beastial side it served no real purpose. He hadn’t been able to connect to the simple comfort that tea had always provided him. Now he loved the feeling of warmth in his hands and the smell of it lingering in the air. He set the cup on the table next to the couch and kelt by her side again, smoothing his hand over her hair. It was a relief to feel cooler skin on her forehead and he allowed himself hope there. 

“Faith, I need you to wake up. I know you’re tired, but I’d like you to try to drink this tea for me.”

She moaned, her face contorting as she woke up, pain flashing visible before her eyes opened. They took a moment to focus, scanning the room before coming to rest on him. Once they did they still took time to adjust, take in what they were seeing. Her expression softened when her mind was able to catch up. Her hand reached out to touch his arm; he reached his free hand to cover it and squeeze lightly. 

“S’at you, G?”

“It is, Faith. I’m back, at least for now.”

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“So are you.” 

He put his arm behind her back to brace her as she sat up, propping her against some pillows when she was in the right place. Once she was settled he offered her the teacup, helping her drink to make sure she only took a little of the liquid at a time. She groaned but grit her teeth and made due as best she could nearly finishing the drink out of stubbornness. He let her lean back when she was done, watching as her eyes drifted closed. 

“I need to thank you,” he offered softly. 

“We did what we could. Nothing you wouldn’t have done for us.”

“No, not just for the care you and Buffy have shown me. I meant your promise, the kiss. At first, the memory of that promise was the only thing that helped me keep on. Your kiss stayed with me even in my darkest moments. It gave me something real to fight for. I think the memory of that affection helped me hold on to my humanity for all those years.”

“G, I don’t know if that was -” she blinked. “Years?”

“Years,” he confirmed, nodding. “I held on down there knowing you lot would find a way.”

“Oh, shit, G. I’m sorry. We should have gotten to you sooner.” She struggled to sit up again before he stopped her. 

“No! Don’t trouble yourself about it now. I’m here; I’m fine.” He helped her back down. “You need your rest.”

“Fucking years, though.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I should have gotten to you sooner.”

“You got to me. That’s all that matters.” 

“I feel like shit,” she admitted, eyes closed.

“You look beautiful.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She touched her sweat soaked hair. 

“Come on.” 

He put an arm under her back and helped her up, walking them little by little upstairs to the bathroom. He set her down on a chair in the hall and ran a warm bath, sprinkling it with a few flowers that made it smell nice. Once it was ready, steam rising in faint whisps above the water, he helped the slayer into the bathroom and made to help her out of her clothes. When she hesitated he put a hand on her arm and gave her a bashful look.

“You took care of me. It’s only right I should try to do the same. I thought a warm bath might help you feel more human, as it were.”

His lips twitched in a faint smile for the joke and she returned it weakly. 

She opted to keep her undergarments on, stepping into the old fashioned claw foot tub with help. She sank into the welcoming water, sighing as it surrounded her. He let her soak for a few minutes, going to get the things he needed. Gently as if she were a bird, he dipped the cloth into the water and washed her. When he was done with that he dipped water onto her head, tilting it back as he did, and worked lather into her hair. He massaged her scalp as he worked drawing a low moan from the brunette. For all of her worldly experience she’d never been touched like that by anyone in her entire life. It felt amazing.

When she was rinsed and clean he let her soak a few minutes more.

“You look better.”

“I thought I looked beautiful.”

“You always look beautiful, Faith, but now you look better as well.”

“I feel good.”

He helped her from the tub, toweling her off carefully. He got her back to the couch and took no argument as he brushed her hair for her, careful to avoid any tangle that might hurt. As with everything else he was patient and diligent until she was dozing off again next to him bundled up in a robe from his closet. He swept his hand down her hair and moved to go make some tea.


	11. Chapter 11

“Spill.”

“Buffy!” 

He gave her a sharp sideways look but her eyes were fully trained on the other slayer who looked much improved from a few days ago when she was dying. Faith’s eyes were downcast, a scowl on her lips. The others, thankfully, were out in the stable with the horses. They weren’t there to hear the argument. He saw the tight way she was holding her body and the slight curl in her hands ready to make fists and needed both girls to calm down.

“What did you do? I saw the nest, Faith. I saw it! I know it was you!”

“What do you want from me?”

“The truth! Is it so hard just to tell the truth?”

“Girls, please.” He stepped physically between them, an ill advised position at best. “Please try to calm down.”

“But she killed them!”

“They were demons!”

He let out a savage growl and caught both of their arms, physically keeping them apart. He glared at Buffy and nodded to one side of the room, Faith to the other. Both girls gave their own glares but had never heard that growl before and retreated to their side of the room. With them separated, he let out a slow breath to get relaxed and raked a hand through his hair. He couldn’t deal with whatever was hanging over their heads and squabbling slayers as well. He kept his body as a physical barrier between them, trying to figure out how best to proceed. 

“I know those types of demons, Faith. They’re large, but harmless unless provoked.” 

“You’re on her side?”

“I don’t have a side; I’m simply trying to understand. Why would you destroy an entire nest alone?”

Her face fell when she realized there wasn’t going to be a chance to talk her way out of this. Her eyes traveled angrily from one to the other before she sighed. She shrugged her shoulders and looked away while the other two waited expectantly for an explanation. 

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“Why?”

“I just didn’t, ok?”

“Faith, we need you to be more forthcoming.”

“The deal I made to get you out. I’m the demon’s muscle for hire for the rest of my life in exchange for getting you out of hell.”

“What?”

“Faith, you should have never made such an exchange for my life. It was reckless of you to -”

“To what? Get you out of there before ten years passed? If this is how you came out after six years what do you think you’d be doing then? You might be gone forever if we waited. Or dead.”

“So we kill him.”

“You can’t. If we kill him that cancels your get out of hell free pass.”

“If it’s a matter of that I’ll gladly take the fall.”

Faith got up and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, yanking him into the other room and shutting the door behind them. He flailed and though he was considerably stronger than he used to be she’d recovered in full and he could not stop slayer strength. He had no choice but to follow her, marveling as she let him go. She stood close, dropping her voice low so that Buffy couldn’t hear or anyone else that happened to come home. She studied him for a few long minutes before she finally let him have it, balling her hands at her sides as she did. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t even think it. B? She needs you. They all need you. You can’t just throw yourself on the grenade every time you think you should.”

“What about you?” He asked quietly. “You have your very own grenade right now and it’s causing damage.”

“I figure I owe you guys that much, at least. You’re more important, anyway.”

He sighed and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was wearing his glasses again and had blessed modern technology the moment he got them on. In the Hellmouth they’d broken fairly early on so he hadn’t had the benefit. 

“You constantly undervalue yourself.”

“Are you looking in a mirror right now?”

He paused and took her point, conceding it silently. Leaning against one of the shelves he crossed his arms over his chest.

“We can’t change what’s been done. I’m grateful for your sacrifice but I can’t allow it to continue. We’ll spend as much time as it takes to find a way out of this deal of yours. It was rash of you, but of course you already know that. Further finger wagging is unnecessary just now, I think.”

“I didn’t want to kill them.”

“I believe you.”

He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, seeing the maturity and the guilt in her eyes. They’d gotten close while he was, well, less than himself. He didn’t want to jeopardize that by pushing her too far. Anyway, it wasn’t important to get a lecture in with a new problem on the horizon. He leveled his gaze at her, catching her eyes. 

“I need you to tell me everything.”

“If you say so.”

They went back into the living room. He and Buffy listened while she told her tale, letting her go at her own pace. Though she didn’t saw so he saw the changes in her when she started talking about the nest. He saw her tremble a little and her hands clench together in front of her. He saw how carefully she controlled her facial expression which was telling in itself. It hurt to think about, knowing she’d put herself in this position for him. They all stayed quiet when she was finished, letting the tale digest. 

“Alright, so we research.”

“What’s more important? The demon or the stone?”

“At this point it’s difficult to tell. Of course we don’t want him to keep his contract with Faith but that stone...it sounds familiar to me. He didn’t want it without having a reason.”

“I swear I don’t know what it does.”

“I know you don’t. We’ll figure it out, with any luck before something terrible happens.”

“That’s not very comforting.”

He frowned, but he couldn’t disagree. It wasn’t meant to be comforting, only true. He moved to his bookshelf and pulled several volumes he thought would be handy. It was considerably more comforting to be able to touch the actual books than try to use the proxies in his head. He split the work having the slayers look up the demon while Xander, Willow, and he tried to find out what they could about the stone. It seemed best. The redhead went to the main house to be able to access reliable internet, which was still rather spotty this far in the country. Hours melted away in mind numbing research until Faith had had her fill and Buffy’s head was beginning to droop with sleep.

“Perhaps we ought to call it a night,” he suggested at last.

“Sleepy.” Buffy mumbled. 

“I’ll go get you and Will settled.”

Xander moved from the table guiding the blonde by the shoulders out the door and across the yard to the main house. It was substantially bigger than the cottage and would be where the majority of the Scoobies would be sleeping. It wasn’t Giles’ taste, not really, even though he owned the place. It was an ancestral home he kept for reasons he honestly never stopped to put a finger on before. Tradition, probably. That sounded about right. 

He noticed he was alone with Faith who, despite the work, looked awake and restless. 

“Something on your mind?”

“No.” She was toying with a lace decoration on top of the side table. “Maybe.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.” The silence dragged for a moment before she looked up. “Do you want to talk about what you went through in the Hellmouth?”

“Not especially, but I suppose I should try. As much as I’d love to keep it to myself I’ve read numerous reports that talking about this sort of thing is therapeutic.”

“Do you still get the nightmares?”

“Every night.”

“I’ll tell if you will.” She decided.

“That sounds like a fair deal.”


	12. Chapter 12

He moved to the cabinet and poured them both a stiff tumbler of scotch, handing hers to her as he sat beside her on the couch. There was no way he was going to be able to get through any of this without a good drink. With them being so similar, he was pretty sure she could appreciate it. She could and took her first healthy sip before anything had been spoken. 

“I know you’ve been playing brave for Buffy and the others.” 

He blinked at her, sure there was a lead buried somewhere. He gave an off gesture, not really sure how to respond. 

“I forget sometimes, Faith, what similar creatures we can be.”

“Yeah?”

“There are noticeable differences, of course, but at the heart we have similar traits. This,” he saluted her with his cup, “for example.”

“You didn’t deny it, being brave.”

“I’m aware.”

“What was it like down there?”

He looked her square in the eye, looking for something she couldn’t identify. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“I’m sure.”

He emptied his cup in reply and moved to the cupboard to grab the entire bottle. He brought it back with him to the couch setting it within easy reach because, God knew, he was going to need it. She watched him and scooted closer when he settled, watching his every move. He looked like he had when he first came back. His eyes were wide and wild. She could see the wheels turning in his head but no words came out at first.

“There’s no words to describe it,” he admitted. A laugh escaped him which made her jump. “You know? There were parts of it that I found beautiful, if you can believe it.” 

“I believe it.”

“It was...expansive. I never discovered the source of the red light that used to glow there but it was enough to see by. Everything looked tinged in blood. There were underground springs that were safe to drink. The plants...I’ve never seen any of the species before. Some were quite dangerous. One in particular seemed to be covered in an acidic substance that would burn my skin when I brushed them.”

She let him go at his own pace, watching in rapt fascination as he told his story. He drank more than his share but she figured if any deserved it he did and kept refilling his glass. She neglected her own, leaving it abandoned on the coffee table. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about his experience since he’d come back to them. By rights, he probably should have been opening up to his Slayer, but he wasn’t. It was her. He chose her.

“Magic, I found, was a homing beacon to demonkind down there. It’s rare and strong, dark energy is so strong there it’s overwhelming, so when it’s used anyone that can sense it heads straight for it. It’s coveted. At first it was a necessity to survive the long periods of darkness, to create fire to stay warm, ward off an enemy, but it always brought more demons on its coattails. I had to learn quickly how to survive without it, going along mostly under the radar.” 

“What did you eat?”

“You can imagine,” he whispered. She could and it made her stomach turn in empathy. “The very demons that hunted me became my means of living. They were food, clothing, tools. Those few that had weapons provided that advantage if they could be bested. My body wasn’t used to the activity, you see. I’m not a fighter.” 

He tugged off his shirt and she saw his bare chest, criss crossed in scars. She’d gotten inured to the sight during her care of him but within context the scars stood out more. She let out a sad sound reaching out to touch the nearest one, a sharp line down his breast crossing his heart. She traced her finger down the line of it, unable to imagine the sheer torture it must have been to go through. She tried, but her mind failed time after time to come up with anything remotely like it for all of her near death experiences. She shuddered and let the hand fall. 

“That was one of the last I received, just before you lot rescued me. The demon had me pinned and meant to carve my heart out with its knife, a delicacy. The wound became infected; I almost didn’t make it. I had to hide in a cave for weeks, only venturing out for food and water. I became a scavenger, taking what I could from other kills to get by.” 

“G, I’m so sorry.”

He tugged his shirt back on and looked away, searching for the right words. 

“After a while there was nothing to do but succumb to the influence of that horrible place. There was no hope of escape. Survival was hard enough to manage at first. Little by little I became exactly as everything else. The only advantage I had was a connection to the world, a memory of what it was like to be cared for, loved.”

He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to the top of it, deeply into his cups. Being without liquor for that long had turned him into a bit of a lightweight but while he was touching her the trembling she’d seen seemed to subside. He ran his thumb back and forth across her knuckles, studying her face while they were close.

“Do you see why I thanked you? As rash as your decision was, you saved me from a fate worse than death. I wasn’t myself, any part of myself, and was starting to lose even the hint of memory in the back of my mind. That kiss stayed with me the longest.”

She nodded blindly, feeling tears stinging her eyes. 

“Do you want to know the truth?”

“Sure.” 

The word came out more broken with emotion than she intended and she looked away. He guided her to look at him with his free hand, tilting her chin up slightly.

“If I’m honest I still feel it, especially in my worst moments. It’s a struggle to keep that darkness at bay. I was that other me for so long I’ve nearly forgotten how to be myself. You help me remember.”

“I did what I could. I just didn’t want you to disappear without something. I only wanted you to stay, but, the kiss…”

She hadn’t planned that. To that day she still couldn’t remember why she’d made the choice to kiss him. It had just seemed like the right thing to do. Gratitude maybe but she suspected it was deeper than that. She wasn’t in a position to explore the idea any further, but she also didn’t push him away and she was practically in his lap. 

“Faith, may I kiss you?”

“Yes.” 

That word came with absolute clarity, shocking her system with the thrill that shook her with the thought. She wound her arms around him immediately, tilting her chin up even as he brought his lips down and meshed them with hers. There was nothing to second guess, nothing to hold back, and she melted into his arms so effortlessly it was as if she’d been made for that moment alone. Her moan sparked a fever of desire down his spine and he hauled her completely into his lap, bringing her as close as he could manage. He slid a hand up her cheek and into her rich brown hair, cupping the back of her head. This time he was trembling for an entirely different reason. More than six years worth of sexual frustration was close to rendering him completely desperate. He felt the beast clawing within, begging him to give in to their mutual desires. 

Instead, he pulled away from her and took a shuddering breath.

“Run from me, Faith. Right now. Don’t question it, just run.”

His jaw was clenched and he moved his hands to the couch, gripping the cushions hard enough to crumple them. He was amazed and a little nervous when she didn’t do as expected. 

“I don’t want to.”

“You need to. Please, Faith, I’m not safe. If you unleash this thing it may not be contained. I might frighten you. Or, worse, hurt you.”

She curled a hand around his collar and tugged him forward, meeting his lips again. 

“Hurt me.”

“Faith!” He protested lightly, resolve slipping. 

The beast roared in delight, unleashing a steady flow of lava from his pounding heart to each of his extremities, pooling between his legs. The evidence of his lust was little concealed, even in his slacks. He groaned as she ground against his erection, unleashing the beast from its cage without the chance to keep protesting. She deserved better. She needed to be protected. He no longer had the words or the mind to give either thing such thought. There was nothing there to break his fall except for her body, warm and sweet, prey to his searching hands. He eagerly slid them along the bare skin beneath her top searching for things far too long denied to him. Delicious friction had his head swimming even before her lips ventured down his neck. He growled and rolled her onto her back, bringing his own body down on top of hers. 

“If the others come…?” She ventured, though she was hardly performance shy.

“Let them come.” He returned in a purr, pushing her shirt up to expose her bra. “I don’t care. Let them come.” 

He kissed down the plane of her stomach, tasting her skin and finding it every bit as intoxicating as he had imagined. She watched him, pitching when it felt good with a small hum of pleasure. He turned those eyes on her when he reached her waistband - dark, dangerous looking eyes that were brand new. She doubted anyone had ever seen him look this way before and with her he knew it was truly alright to let his inner monster roam free. He drew her up slowly, sliding his hand beneath her shirt to draw it overhead before sliding his hand back down her arms. He pinned her wrists to the couch, settled between her legs. She struggled weakly, not really wanting to get away, and delighted in his growl and the subsequent tightening of his fingers around her wrists. 

“You like it,” he observed with a spark of approval. “You like the pain.” 

“You have no idea.”

“I’m ready to find out.”

He scooped her up and carried her upstairs to his bedroom, hardly able to contain his excitement. He placed her on the bed and took off his shirt again. His gaze never left her body, her face, and he smirked when their eyes met. It was the absolute confidence that she was his prey and he could do whatever he liked while she begged for more. Once his clothes were a distant memory he sank onto the bed and tugged her pants down, laying the rest of her clothes aside. The beast was chomping at the bit, begging for all of the civility to cease. There was a place for that but it wasn’t time yet. Right now, he had other things on his mind. 

Settling between her legs again he bent down and inhaled along her body, over her chest, reveling in the spicy sweet scent she put off naturally. A hand between her legs and a sharp gasp from her was proof that she was already soaked. He hardly needed to do a thing to be able to fuck her savagely and yet he held on to enough restraint not to simply bury himself and take her until they were both completely spent. Another growl rumbled low in his chest like thunder as he swept a rosy nipple into his mouth. He blew cold breath against it just to watch it stiffen and smiled.

“I’m going to make you come before I ever get inside you. I’m going to make you come again and again until I’m satisfied and then I’m going to start all over as I’m fucking you. How does that sound?”

“Like too much talking.”

He gave her a wolfish grin and descended her body again, this time letting his lips explore between her legs. The animal in him begged to take over as he licked and teased her, tasting the most intimate part of her there was. Everything he did was designed for her pleasure, slipping along her sleek folds before manipulating the perfect little bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Then his tongue slid down into her channel, lapping up the wonderful proof of her arousal. He never stayed in one place too long, expertly touching and teasing until her breath was ragged and she was all but begging for release. When he was ready he gave it to her, growling in triumph as she called his name and feasting on her juices as they dripped from her in climax. Her legs shook and her body clenched and released like the fine tuned instrument it was. He played it well, letting her dip low only to bring her up high again and again until he simply could not stand the wait anymore. 

She lost count of her orgasms. Somewhere around five she simply let her mind blank except for the sensation and a memory of his name. It seemed he would never be satisfied and she was fine to let him play to his heart’s content if this was the result. He moved over her and poised himself at her entrance, sinking in slowly with a groan. Hilted, he gave her a second or two to adjust before looking down. The moment when the animal was let off its chain was impossible to miss. His expression went from passively aggressive to full out predatory. A savage sound was ripped from his throat as he set a demanding pace. He drove himself into her fast and hard, letting the solid sound of flesh meeting flesh be the soundtrack of their passion along with the cries of pleasure. 

She’d never felt so full in her entire life. He filled her completely and never let her be without him for more than an instant before he was driving in again. He had her knees brought up to her chest to create a better angle, fully sheathed in her scorching sex with each inward thrust. The world began to blur around the edges of her vision. The only thing in focus was him and his intense gaze, working now for his own pleasure as much as hers. Six years was a hell of a lot of repression to work through but she was the perfect person to take this kind of gratifying punishment. It seemed like an eternity there in that bedroom. Pleasure stopped having any real ebb and flow. It was relentless, exacting, taking everything from her that it wanted until she was left raw and wanting. She clung to him through multiple orgasms unable to stop the onslaught of them if she tried. Everything he promised he gave and more until she was begging in a low voice. Begging him to stop, to continue, to quench the fire burning inside of her that kept everything off kilter in her world except him. 

She lost track of everything, only knowing him and the pleasure they were creating together. He was a madman, an animal, and she surrendered to his desperate, driving need. It drove him through at least two climaxes that she could remember and had him thrusting endlessly into her like a machine. 

She came one more time, calling his name; it filled the room with rich, sensuous sound. With a roar of carnal triumph he rose to her call, burying his aching member in her body and then rocking his hips to milk every last drop of ecstasy from his release. Her tight channel helped with that, reflexively working him over with her inner muscles in the throes of her final orgasm. He snarled and whined as he came down from that dizzying height, carefully confining the beast back to its cage. He managed to throw a blanket over the both of them before he was asleep, snoring contentedly with her in his arms. 

She didn’t even try to escape.


	13. Chapter 13

“Good morning.”

She groaned and opened her eyes, clumsily rubbing the sleep from them. The last thing she remembered was him towering over her and the light pink of dawn through the window yet here he was standing at the foot of the bed, dressed, looking like nothing had happened. Only his bloodshot eyes told the story of their night and he held it well as if a seasoned veteran of life with a hangover. She really hoped he didn’t think she took advantage. If anything, she had given him most of the control. God, why did everything have to be so stupidly complicated all of the time? She buried her head beneath a pillow in protest, drawing a soft laugh from the Watcher. No hint of the beast was in him at the moment and she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. She felt tendrils of soreness at her thighs and she could almost still feel her body buzzing from their night. One thing was for sure, the Hellmouth had done him favors for strength, stamina, and sheer force of will. In her mind she could admit that she was terribly, irrevocably attracted to him. 

“Buffy made breakfast, if you’re interested.”

“Does she -?”

“I told her I slept on the couch.” He came and knelt in front of her, kissing her cheek. “Last night was incredible, Faith. I haven’t the words to thank you.”

“No need to thank me.”

If it meant anything at all beyond a much needed release was up in the air. She didn’t press and finally sat up, shoving her hair away from her face. She wasn’t usually up this early but they still had a demon to fight and a stone to research. Evil didn’t appear to be following her sleep schedule. She sighed and kicked the blankets off of her body, swinging to the side to put her feet on the floor. She let out a long, slow breath and stood up. The tinge of paint between her legs grew tenfold but she ignored it, grabbing a towel.

“Tell them I’ll be over after a shower.”

“I will. I’m afraid it’s more research for now.”

“Can’t wait.”

It would have been nice if the shower could have massaged away her aching muscles. The water pressure in the little cottage was clearly not slayer strength so she had to make due with being warm and getting clean. Even the warmth started crapping out toward the end making her finish up in a hurry. 

She moved toward the big house and found them all in the large office sitting around a table. This seemed more like it, posh and classic. The chair she was sitting in was probably worth more than all of her belongings combined but she had to admit it was a pretty comfortable chair. At the head of the table Giles was making his focus face, pursed lips and tight brow. He was bent over a book, flipping pages faster than everyone else but she was pretty sure that’s because he read faster than everyone at the table. 

“Oh, dear.”

“That’s not a good face, Giles.”

“I’m fairly certain the words oh dear conveyed my dread pretty well.”

“What dread? Share with the rest of the class.” Buffy shook her head, closing her book.

“That stone isn’t a stone at all. What I mean to say is that it’s a star.” 

“A star?”

“The heart of one. It’s been taken and refined by someone with powerful magic and contains quite a lot of power. The last time it surfaced was in the late sixteenth century. The Slayer, Evangeline Dumas, prevented a demon from using it to summon an ancient evil. I could request those diaries from the Council but it could take weeks. All I know is that she died in the battle and the stone was lost. Presumably until now.”

“I helped him get that?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Shit.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself.”

“But you said he could use it to summon an ancient evil. The guy has no shortage of power.”

“If it’s been so rarely used that would denote that it takes a tremendous amount of energy to power. That’s our saving grace here. If we can get to your demon before he builds enough strength to try to use it we have a chance to take it back and put it in safe keeping.”

“He’s always come to me. I don’t know how to find him.”

“You speak his name and he comes?” 

That’s why they’d all been so careful not to say it. She nodded solemnly, unable to meet anyone’s eye. 

“It’s like he’s attached to me. When I first tried to summon him I had to meet him somewhere, a cemetery. That’s what Ethan said.”

“Interesting. Perhaps that’s a place of power for this demon. If we can detect any magical energy there we have a chance to trace it back to its source.” 

“This is good. We still don’t know how to get Faith out of her contract.” Buffy frowned.

“One step at a time. The fate of the world is more important at the moment. If he wanted that stone no doubt he knows how to use it. If he knows how to use it the world doesn’t have very long until he tries.” 

He moved back to the cottage to gather weapons and spell ingredients, pulling a few books from the shelves. Everyone piled into the car with Giles driving (that made Buffy nervous) and Faith in the front seat navigating. The drive took a while and they ended up at the cemetery as the sun was setting. There was a chill in the air that he hardly noticed as he moved from the car to the gates. Faith took the lead and showed them the center of the gated expanse, pointing to the spot where he’d first appeared.

“I said his name and he was just there. It took a few minutes but he appeared.”

“And you say he’s been talking directly to you ever since?”

“Yeah. When he told me about the job he wanted me to do his voice was just in my head.” 

“He probably used the connection of your blood on that orb.”

“Probably,” she agreed. “It’s the only thing I could figure out.” 

“Alright, I have a fair idea what to do. Willow,” he gestured to the redhead. “If you don’t mind helping me?”

He worked in concert with the witch to set up the spell, simple as it was. In the end he held a consecrated candle in his hands. The girl held a burning bunch of herbs, using them to light the white candle. The flame roared to life and then sputtered blue, a ripple of blue flame reached out toward the open area between two headstones. The Watcher bent low, studying the ground with the candle flickering in his hand. 

“Ah ha.”

The other four anxiously leaned forward. He turned and caught them staring, looking sheepish. 

“This appears to be a portal. Quite possibly linked to other portals scattered all over. We might be able to use his own network of magic against him, tracing the lines to where they intersect. We’d know where his lair is. We could combat him on his territory. Though once we do that our element of surprise is lost so when we go we have to be absolutely sure of our strategy.”

“What strategy? We go in and beat the shit out of him and take the stone.”

“As nice as a straightforward approach may be it might not be so easy as that. We need to minimize risk. We can’t kill the demon. We have to incapacitate him once we know where the stone is.”

“We have all the arsenal we need.”

“I know, Buffy.” 

He was hard pressed to think of a reason why they shouldn’t go if they could work out a proper strategy. He hefted a sword and let his mind spin, going through all of the likeliest scenarios. The Slayers were strong and he could now properly help them. It was Xander and Willow he worried for the most, but they needed more magic than he could provide. 

“I’ll go in with Buffy and Faith. We’ll find the demon and the stone. Willow, you and Xander need to stay back and stay safe. When we get the stone I’m counting on you both to get it out of that lair and far away. Back to the cottage until we return.”

“Are you sure?” She twisted her hands and then fumbled for her best friend’s hand. He took it and kept his eyes on the older man.

“We can’t risk you and the only other person that can open the portal is you. Xander can drive my car, get you out of the city. If we don’t return in two days take the money I have in my desk drawer and run. Go as far as you can. Find Robin Wood or someone else that can help you hide it. With any luck we’ll find a way to destroy it, or deactivate it.”

“You’re coming back.”

“I pray you’re right.”


	14. Chapter 14

It took forever to wait for Giles to set up the right spell. At least it felt like it. Buffy was testing weapons, so was Faith beside her. Once the spell was complete the portal opened. It was a faint, rippling wave that distorted the images of everything around it no matter where Faith looked. She reached out to touch it when he held her hand and stopped her.

“Don’t. Not just yet. He may be able to feel it so we don’t want to give him warning.”

“I’m losing my mind over here.”

“We’re all nervous.”

“I guess so.”

She stood by and watched while they all did whatever last minute prepping. Giles motioned to them to gather, which they did. He hugged all of them, knowing the risk of what they were about to do. He also knew what he’d have to become, if it came to it. 

“Faith should go through first, he might speak to her. Buffy and I will follow. Xander and Willow, you hang back and come through a full minute after the rest of us. Stay back and stay safe. We must be able to count on you to get the stone out.”

A star’s heart was more mystical an object than most he’d come across. He worried they might not be able to contain it once activated. There was no telling anymore. He simply had to let them take it as it was. Perhaps that was a little more reckless than the old him should have been but he’d changed. This was no time to be timid.

“I suspect this demon hasn’t called upon Faith again because she handed him exactly what he wanted. He needed her to destroy that nest so he likely isn’t strong himself. He has access to plenty of magic so we should all be wary.” 

If he managed to have Faith over a barrel in his dealings it made sense that he’d have others at his disposal to call on. He nodded and the first slayer stepped through the portal and disappeared. When they reappeared they were in an underground cavern. Everything was lit in an ominous violet light and the ground rumbled and pitched beneath their feet. Giles felt his heart drop into his shoes and struggled to keep standing upright. 

“We’re too late,” he breathed. “He’s already begun.”

“So we fight.”

“We don’t know what he’s summoning.”

“We can’t just stay here.”

“Buffy, I must agree with Faith on this. We can’t stay here. Whatever evil he’s summoning could very well destroy life as we know it.”

“So we go in blind?”

“We have little choice. If we wait for it to become used to this dimension, gather power, the threat could be more than we can handle.”

The blonde sighed, knowing she’d been defeated by logic and the majority. At least they were as well equipped as they could be. She started walking with them toward the source of the violet light, praying that they all made it out of here alive. The path sloped up and then crested at a plateau, allowing them to see down into crevice the demon occupied. For the first time Faith saw him without his hood. She felt like she was going to be sick and ducked to the side to catch her breath. He looked like the fusion of a human and a snake, his scaled hands not where the animalistic traits stopped. His face was a twisted version of both species but it was so much more than that. There was no sense to where the snake began or ended and seemed to streak his anatomy without rhyme or reason. He was speaking in that serpentine half hiss of his, dark, quiet words of summoning over the star. 

“What is that?” The other slayer queried quietly.

“The demon,” Faith whispered back. “That is one ugly bastard.”

“I suspect he used to be human but whatever summoning he used, whatever magic, went horribly awry.”

“You think?”

He gave the brunette a hard glare in response. 

“That may well be why he wanted the star. Possibly to finish what he started or to summon a demon strong enough to complete the task for him as reward.”

“Why do they always turn into snakes?” Buffy complained, remembering the mayor and shuddering. The other girl shared the memory and frowned, looking away. 

“Better question is why humans keep trying to turn themselves into demons.”

Buffy nodded and wasn’t sure. In the Mayor’s case it had been for power. In Ford’s it was to save his life because he was afraid of dying. There were reasons, and they varied, but none of them seemed very good comparatively. She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. They didn’t have time for them right now. Giles moved ahead to scout the path down, quieter now that the battle was nearly upon them. Both slayers peeked over at the demon again. The entire cavern was beginning to shake and they saw a hole in midair, as if the cavern was a cloth backdrop and had been ripped apart. Violet light poured through the opening, kicking up wind that shouldn’t exist. A tremendous baritone roar shook the cavern and a their watcher came scrambling back toward them. 

“We need to get down there, now.”

The trio began to move, spotting Willow and Xander behind them and motioning to stay back. It might be that the star was useless to take now and they weren’t needed. There was no point in risking their lives until they knew there was something to risk them for. Willow gave her a half smile, waving good luck. There was an overcast quality to her blue eyes that the slayer recognized as worry. She tried to be brave in return, nodding and following the others down the path toward the base of the cavern. The demon’s focus on his spell helped them remain undetected but the shaking of the cavern made the journey down more precarious.

“Syvvlin!” 

The voice boomed like thunder, cracking across the space like a whip. Faith flinched and saw Giles snarl in response. She reached a hand out and touched his shoulder, shaking her head at him. Now was not the time to lose it. Maybe in the heart of the battle if they needed Tarzan Giles, then it would be better but they needed his head first. He was the only one with a prayer of recognizing the demon being summoned and knowing how to stop it. 

“Yesss, Massster!”

His tone carried his joy and eagerness, much more emotion and enthusiasm than Faith had heard in their interludes together. His voice never got loud, persay, but it filled the entire cavern nonetheless. 

“Offer your sacrifice so that I may pass through this veil into your world, ripe for conquest.”

“I offer whatever you wish, Massster, ssso you will be free!”

“You offer this freely?”

“Yesss, Massster. I offer my sssacrifice freely!”

“Thank you, slave. I will remember your purpose in my return.”

Buffy got a sick feeling in her stomach, they all did, even before the violet light shot out of the portal and surrounded the snake demon. He hissed and his eyes widened as the light took hold of him. His eyes widened as he was suspended in mid-air, held taut by the light. Light looped his wrists and ankles with one tendril around his neck. The ground started shaking so violently that Buffy was the first to fall, landing in a heap soon followed by her Watcher and fellow slayer. Worse than any California earthquake, the ground rolled like a living thing, unable to keep any of the humans on their feet. 

“Massster, what betrayal isss thisss?” The demon stared into the portal, voice turned harsh. 

“I require a sacrifice to be born. Your life will do nicely.”

“I will ssstop the ritual. I will -”

The light that had him by his limbs tore him apart, separating his body with a spray of green blood and viscera. The angry, strangled cry hardly echoed in the open space. Buffy let out a pathetic sound and buried her face into Giles’ chest. Faith was unable to look away. Her stomach rolled like the ground and she heard a small crystalline sound at her feet. Looking down, she saw a sphere smeared with blood, her blood, lying in front of her. She picked it up and showed it to the older man who gave it careful consideration.

“I suppose with the demon dead, there’s no more contract to honor.”

“Small favors,” she returned tersely but tucked the bauble into her pocket. “That still leaves us with Mr. Evil Beyond All Reason.”

Speaking of the ancient evil brought him forth, the green blood dripping through the hole into the portal and a large purple arm shot out, then another. They were banded with muscle. His hands hit the solid stone and sank in, helping the demon claw his way out of his wretched hole. The body was even more intimidating than his arms, and they were tree trunks of muscle. It was roped with even more musculature. It seemed like the demon had muscles within muscles, or else its species was just ten times thicker than theirs. Though its head was down there was an elongated chin and black eyes, a mane of glossy black hair down its back. It reminded Faith of Juggernaut from the X-Men comics, only more demony. 

It stood while the humans watched, stretching and looking around its new home. 

“Fuck,” the brunette swore under her breath. The blonde couldn’t disagree. 

“No time like the present.” 

Giles nudged them before moving past into the open. It took the demon only a moment to notice it was not as alone as it had thought. It looked down at the man and the two young women walking out behind him. He noticed the swords, the axe Faith carried, and frowned. The expression looked almost comical on its overly pronounced features. For the moment the Watcher did nothing but regard his enemy, trying to cycle through the books locked away in his mind for any hint of what he was. 

“You’re what I smell.”

“I suppose we are,” Giles answered reasonably.

The demon kicked Syvvlin’s remains out of the way with one foot. They hit the wall with a wet, squelching sound; Buffy cringed.

“Who are you pathetic creatures? More sacrifices?”

“I’m afraid not. We’re here to stop you from whatever enslavement you have planned for this world. My name is Rupert Giles, Watcher. This is Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane. They’re Slayers. Perhaps you’ve heard of them?”

“I have not.”

“Ah, well, it’s their destiny to prevent beings like you from harming the inhabitants of this world. It’s mine to guide them.”

“You have never come across a being like me.”

“If I had a dime for every time I’ve heard that,” Buffy commented in the background. The demon frowned, growling. “You have never seen the likes of Kar'godas before!”

“Car goddess?” The blonde tilted her head while Faith snickered. 

“Kar’godas!” He repeated with a vicious growl. One of his large fists rocketed at the stone wall of the cavern and around the strike the rock splintered and fell. “I am the conqueror of worlds, ancient evil of the deepest realms of Hell. There is no where my reach does not extend and now that I am made flesh in your realm it will surely fall to my hand. I am -”

“In need of a breath mint?”

Faith burst out laughing, unable to stop herself as the demon blinked stupidly at the petite slayer that spoke. It was not used to being laughed at and did not relish the sensation. He roared, shaking the room with the strength of his voice. 

“I will not be ridiculed by ridiculous humans! I will enjoy making you the first of the souls I devour!” 

The Slayers exchanged a look.

“Game on.”


	15. Chapter 15

Giles snarled as the beast came toward him. It was large and strong but he was fast and clever. He also had allies, which would aid him. Between the three of them they could find a weakness and exploit it. While he fought his attention was divided, trying to think about the nagging thing in the back of his mind that the demon had said. Kar’godas… He cried out as he was hit and sent sailing, hardly able to comprehend the extent of that pain before more thronged through his body when he struck solid stone and slumped to the floor. He felt the beast rising, the inexorable drive to survive, panicking as he felt logic and reason slip away. Darkness washing in front of his eyes and suddenly Rupert Giles found himself in a small room much like his study in London. He loosed a yell, pushing against the darkness lining the walls of his prison. 

“They need me!” He yelled to himself. “They don’t need brute strength right now! They need answers, knowledge! Let me out of here!”

He beat against the solid black walls with both fists, trying to force himself out by will or strength. 

He was vaguely aware of Faith crying out in pain, her off arm bent at an impossible angle. He knew Buffy was rushing to cover her even as he moved to attack again in retaliation. No matter what they did, his strength was unrivaled. They were bound to tire long before the demon did. He felt his stomach clench and go cold, breathing hard as he leaned against the wall in front of him. He needed to be out there with him, more than the animal that had killed demons and become one of them just to survive. Brute strength wasn’t always the saving grace it appeared to be.

And then he remembered where he was. He opened his eyes and turned to look at the bookcase. It was lined with books he’d used before to help Faith. Perhaps this wasn’t so much a prison as a chance to research while the innate survivalist protected Buffy and Willow. In a way, he was two places at once. 

“This is me...my mind.” 

Everything he knew was at his fingertips. He trailed them along his collection, calling to mind everything he could remember about a demon even remotely like Kar’godas. Nothing came except...rumor. A small scrap of cured demon skin appeared on the shelf in front of him. He shuddered and picked it up, turning it over. He saw writing inside and stared for long minutes. 

Devourer of souls…

He frowned, pulling a book out of the shelf that he knew like the back of his hand. He flipped through it to the proper section, all the paragraphs filled in. There was very little defined about the soul, but plenty of lore about being able to harness their power if one were in possession of a soul that was not theirs. During his time in the Hellmouth he’d heard whispers of a soul devourer that nearly took it over until the strongest demons banded together to stop him. They had to steal his souls, reducing his strength. Their enemy was presumed dead and the demons divided the Hellmouth into territories according to who participated in the battle.

He’d assumed it was just the demonic version of an origin story, a glorified reason why the Hellmouth was divided and how it stood. Presumably, it had happened a long time ago even by human reckoning. 

His mind kept spinning, trying to figure out the best way he could traffic in souls and release whatever he’d taken to weaken him to the point where he might be killed. He heard Buffy scream, shuddering as he became aware of agony across his back. Something was surely broken, he just wasn’t sure what it was yet. He only needed to stay conscious long enough to develop a plan and execute it. 

“Think!” he chided himself. “Damn you, think!”

The bauble Faith had. It had, in part, housed her soul as part of the demon’s contract. Maybe it hadn’t had a full portion of it, but enough that perhaps he might manipulate its energies to expunge the souls from the demon. If it could be swallowed...That was a long shot and he knew it. Still, it was their best chance. He just needed to get his hands on the thing and recite the proper spells. Five minutes worth of concentration and he’d have a soul expectorant. 

He was breathing hard, reflecting some of the actions of his other self. Going back to the darkness he touched it softly.

“It’s alright, I understand.”

It gave way to his touch, letting him surface again. He blinked and found himself against a wall, the two girls fighting the demon. Faith’s face was clenched in pain, her broken arm tucked up against her body. The girls worked together not gaining ground but not yet losing much either. He dodged a swipe and came toward the brunette. 

“Faith, I need that orb Syvvlin used.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me.”

“In my pocket.”

She kept the axe in her good hand and the other was useless. He reached into her pocket and pulled it out quickly. Once in hand he backed up a step. 

“I’ll be back in a moment. I know how to end this.”

“Hurry!”

He moved to the path back up. “Willow!” 

He shielded his eyes and looked for her. A timid face popped up and he motioned her down from the safety of her ledge. She scrambled down as quickly as she could, trying not to watch Buffy and Faith fighting. He explained his plan to her and taught her the spell knowing that two magic users would make it more effective than just him alone. They held the orb in both of their clasped hands, reciting the spell over and over while it glowed. Once the light died he stopped, examining it. 

“Get Xander and get out of her immediately. One way or another we’re going to end this.”

“Good luck.”

He lost sight of her as he turned back to the fight. 

“Hey!” He picked up the fizzled out star heart and hurled it at the demon’s head, watching as it exploded in violet and black stardust. “You want a soul? Come and get me.”

He dropped his sword and his Slayer let out a sharp gasp, moving toward him only to be caught by her dark haired counterpart. “Don’t.”

“Come steal my soul you second rate Thedocian!” 

Kar’godas let out a growl and charged toward him, picking him up single handedly. “You will regret this little man.”

He squeezed until the Watcher let out a cry of agony, bending over his fist limply. He was shaken like a ragdoll, exacerbating whatever bone was broken. It hurt worse than anything and he saw darkness tinging the edges of his vision, this time because he was losing consciousness. 

“Go on, steal my soul if you can you pillock,” he panted.

The demon brought him close and opened his mouth, drawing in a deep breath. He tossed the orb into the gaping hole and heard the demon choke, heard the orb splinter, and then saw nothing as he was dropped to the ground and landed in a heap. The demon roared and sank to his knees as both slayers moved to get him from the floor. Thankfully Willow hadn’t listened and brought Xander down, forcing the young man to carry the older one. They took him as souls poured from the demon in a steady stream, expelling the source of his power. Buffy and Faith remained, the younger taking Giles’ sword that was left behind since the axe wasn’t convenient one handed. 

Kar’godas was only a third of his original size when the light stopped coming, his strong tree trunk arms reduced to slim branches. 

“You wretched humans!” He growled. 

Buffy looked to her counterpart and winked. “Suddenly, I’m liking these odds.”

“No arguments here.”

He looked up as they both charged and buried their swords in his chest. They both pushed until the blades protruded from the other side. His death was silent and pathetic, slumping to the side. They left the swords in his body. Blue eyes met brown and both slayers sighed.

“You arm.”

“It’s been better.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

They began their ascent to the portal that would take them to the cemetery where, they hoped, their friends and an ambulance awaited them.


	16. Epilogue

“Happy anniversary.”

She came into the room with a small chocolate frosted cupcake, candle lit on top of it. The Watcher folded his paper and laid it to the side, giving her a grin as she came toward him. The swell of her stomach was hardly noticeable yet but he saw it nonetheless under her shirt. If there was anyone in this world he knew as well as himself it was her. She sat next to him and placed the cupcake on the table. He looked at it dubiously and then back up at her. 

“Which anniversary are we celebrating, darling?”

“You’ve been back from the Hellmouth for two years today.”

“Have I?” He asked lightly, but he counted each minute he was away from that place and had already known. “We hardly needed to mark the occasion.”

“I wanted to.” 

“There are better things to celebrate, Faith.”

He took up her hand and twisted the ring on it, a promise of marriage once their baby arrived. It had been at her insistence; he wanted to marry her tomorrow. Two years and he still woke to nightmares at least once a week. He still sometimes found himself trapped within his own mind in the heat of danger, worse now that he had not only her to protect but their unborn child. He still occasionally searched for words, still felt strange when he was in highly populated areas or was broken out of quiet by loud, unexpected sounds. He still had some of the bad habits of the Hellmouth: rashness, territoriality, anger. He'd moved out the country cottage in an effort to find a midway between a wild existence and an urban one. She came with him.

She quietly talked him down from every ledge each time he felt beyond control. When he woke she soothed his nightmares with her light touches and soft words. She never judged him for eating like a beast or bouts of restlessness. When he needed she hunted with him, taking joy in their kills. She saved the football and they often spent nights in the field tossing it back and forth. The academic was quite the athlete now and never failed to earn her praise with each impromptu game of catch.

How in the name of the Powers that Be did she manage to love him?

Simple, she had said when he asked her.

“You’re the first guy to really get me. Never would have worked when you were buttoned down but now you’re just enough animal to run with me.”

She had kissed him after that, melting against him until the doubts were chased from his mind. A year later she told him he was going to be a father and he’d rejoiced, kissing and loving her so completely he forgot the horror of the Hellmouth for a few minutes, the best of his life. He’d bought the ring the next day and had thrilled at her acceptance, promising her everything in the world he could give her. Somehow, little by little, they were finding their way together. 

The others were thrilled for them, Willow already calling the title of auntie until Buffy had called godmother and the redhead had pouted that she didn’t think of that. They were all promised a prominent place in the baby’s life as family and guardians. Though, of course, it was just a formality. He had no intention of going anywhere anytime soon. If the Hellmouth had failed to break him, he wasn’t sure what would. 

“You were right, you know, love.”

“Yeah? That doesn’t happen a lot. What about?” 

She picked up the cupcake and offered it to him. He blew it out as expected and chuckled as his pregnant fiancee took the first bite of his treat. He found it impossibly charming.

“About the star, Sirius, and guiding me home. You lot managed beautifully.”

“I just borrowed you speech, G.”

“You adapted it to our needs. I feel so lucky to have you all, but you in particular, love. You're my star, Faith, the one I intend to affix my course to. I love you. Utterly. Without you, I never would have made it.”

“Of course you would have. Don’t think for a second that you couldn’t. If nothing else you’re too stubborn to go without speech for that long.”

She laughed, trying to keep the mood light as she took another bite of the cake. It crumbled a little as she broke off a piece and offered it to him. He took it, kissing her fingertips for the trouble. He gave her a wry smile in return.

“If our daughter is anything like you I’m a lost cause.”

“It’s a girl, is it?”

“I think so. It’s too soon to know for sure but I’m usually right, as history stands.”

She shook her head, setting the cupcake down and stretching as she stood. She moved toward the door and picked up the football, feeling the need to exercise without violence. 

“You coming?”


End file.
